Juggling Act
by JanetD
Summary: This is my resolution to the season one cliffhanger that left Mandy Gressler lying dead or dying on Nick's living room floor.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: ** Juggling Act (1/3)  
**Date Written:** 5/29/02  
**Author: **JanetD  
**Rating:** PG-13 (strong language)  
**Summary:** This story picks up where The Beginning left off. It contains spoilers for The Beginning and Lawyers, Guns, and Money.  
**Author's Notes: **CAUTION: This story contains high levels of Nick-angst. If you have been advised by your physician to avoid excess Nick-angst, please consult with your doctor before reading this story. The author will not be held responsible for any consequences that may befall those persons choosing to ignore this warning. All others proceed at your own risk!   
**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction. The characters in this story are borrowed from the TV show "The Guardian". No money is being made from this story. Any resemblance of a character in this story to any real person living or dead is purely coincidental. Likewise, any resemblance between an organization depicted in this story and any such actual organization is purely coincidental.  
  
  
Prologue from The Beginning  
A Thursday night in late May: Mandy Gresler is lying dead in Nick Fallin's living room. His father, Burton, has just left after telling Nick about the deal he made with Senator Caldwell to keep Nick out of jail after his drug arrest. Nick closes the front door, and, breathing heavily, walks back into the living room where Mandy is lying on the floor. He pauses there, then returns to the foyer, and sits on the stairs. He dials the phone, and says in a ragged voice (breathing heavily throughout the call):  
  
Hey, Dad. It's, uh....it's Nick. Uh...I'm leaving you this message cause, uh, I'm, uh.... Yeah, I-I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry for, for, uh, everything, and, uh, I just haven't, uhm...been .... Yeah, I-I'm just, I'm sorry....okay?... Look, I-I-I came back here because...I wanted to work with you cause I-I respect you, and I, and I wanted to spend more time with you, and...and-and I'm afraid that I-I've just done what I always usually do, and...I'm just afraid, and...Dad, I-I-I just want you to know that...that I-I-I, I love you, and, and I just want to apologize.  
  
----+----  
  
Nick Fallin sat on the bottom step of the spiral stairway in the foyer of his home. He was dressed in a black suit and blue dress shirt. He had discarded his tie earlier in the evening, and his collar was open to the third button. He had just hung up with his father's answering machine, and he was the picture of misery. His eyes were wet with unshed tears, and he looked as if he might begin to cry at any moment. He hung his head as the sound of approaching sirens grew louder. But then, seconds later, lifted it up again. He knew he had to pull it together, and make another call. Reaching into his suit jacket, he took out his wallet, and pulled out a card. Drawing in a deep breath, he dialed a number. When the phone was answered, he said in a pain-filled voice, "Bob, it's, it's Nick Fallin. I-I'm in trouble. Mandy Gresler showed up at my house tonight.... She...we struggled, and I think she's dead.... Yeah.... Yeah, I called for an ambulance. They're pulling up now. Can you come over here, Bob?... 1980 Elsworth in Shadyside. Thanks. Thank you.... Okay. I won't. Bye."  
  
Nick hung up the phone, set it down on the stair, and drew in another long cleansing breath. His face clearly reflected the distress he was in. Just then there was a knock at the door, and a voice sang out, "Fire Dept." Nick got up off the steps, and went quickly over to open the door. A man and woman in uniform stood on the stoop, their hands full of medical equipment. Before either could say anything, Nick said raggedly, "She's in here. She, she fell down, and hit her head. I-I-I can't find a pulse." The two paramedics followed Nick into the living room, and immediately began to examine Mandy. Nick stood a few feet away, arms crossed over himself, biting his lip in anxiety. After the initial examination, the male paramedic exchanged a "this isn't good" look with his partner, and then started CPR. Nick was silent as the two professionals worked over the lifeless woman.  
  
Minutes after the paramedics had started their work, two uniformed police officers arrived. They entered the house in a no-nonsense fashion, and immediately located the party in the living room. The first officer said, "We got a report that a death had occurred at this location." The female paramedic answered, "She's got no pulse, but we're not giving up on her yet. We're just about ready to transport. Could one of you guys go out to the ambulance, and get the gurney? My partner and I kinda have our hands full."   
  
"Sure," said the second policeman. "Need anything else?"  
  
"No, just the gurney, thanks."  
  
As the second patrolman left, the first officer, Fredricks, opened his notebook, and walked up to Nick. "You the one who called this in?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," Nick said, his attention still focused on Mandy and the paramedics.  
  
"This your house?"  
  
Nick nodded.  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"Nicholas Fallin."  
  
Fredricks paused to write this down. "Who's the woman?"  
  
"Her name, her name's Mandy Gresler."  
  
Fredricks recorded this too. "She your girlfriend?"  
  
"No, no," Nick said with an accompanying shake of his head, his despair still visible on his face.  
  
"Okay, can you tell me what happened here?"  
  
"She fell, and, and hit her head."  
  
"How did it happen exactly?"  
  
Nick turned to the officer, and looked at him for a full three seconds before he answered. "My, my lawyer is on his way. I don't think I should say anything more until he arrives."  
  
Fredricks was about to argue the point, but then stopped himself. "Okay, then we'll just wait here together for him to arrive." At that moment, the other policeman returned with the gurney. In just a couple minutes time the paramedics had placed Mandy on the gurney, and bundled her out the door. Shortly afterwards, siren blaring, the ambulance pulled away from the curb.   
  
At the sound of the siren, Nick seemed to shake himself, as if awakening from a bad dream. He glanced around the room, and then walked over to one of the two couches that stood on either side of the coffee table. He collapsed down onto the couch in a sitting position. Officer Fredricks had relayed to the other patrolman what Nick had had to say about Mandy's "accident", and now the two officers stood talking quietly, gazes fixed in Nick's direction. Nick ran one hand down the back of his head, and then brought his chin down to rest on one closed fist. His anxiety was palpable  
  
After five minutes time, another figure came through the open front door. It was Detective Darger, the man who had first taken Nick's statement on the double murder at the Girls! Girls! Girls! strip club three weeks before. Darger was in his early fifties, slim, with a moustache, and long, slicked-back dark hair. Hair that was starting to gray. He had dark, almost beady eyes, and his teeth showed signs of tobacco stains. He was a cop who had served his whole career in the Pittsburgh P.D., and he was shrewd. He knew how to get what he wanted out of both witnesses and suspects. Tonight he was dressed in slacks and a beige dress-shirt, open at the collar. He wore a black leather jacket.   
  
As he entered the house, Darger was already calling Nick's name, "Fallin!" He quickly spotted Nick and the two uniforms in the living room, and headed their way. Nick had glanced up when he'd heard his name, and now he stared at the detective disconsolately. Darger looked at Nick, but turned to the two patrolmen to ask his first question, What's the situation?  
  
Officer Fredricks replied, When we got here the paramedics where working on the girl. She wasn't breathing, and had no pulse. The ambulance left about five minutes ago. Mr. Fallin here says she fell and hit her head, but he won't say any more than that until his lawyer shows up. He says he's on his way.  
  
Darger fixed Nick with a sharp stare. Is that right, Nick, you won't answer my questions until your lawyer gets here?  
  
Nick nodded.   
  
Darger paused, and then said sympathetically, You look like a wreck. Officer Lister, go into the kitchen, and get Mr. Fallin a glass of water. Turning his attention back to Nick, he asked, Mind if I sit down? Nick shook his head, and Darger took a seat on the couch opposite Nick.   
  
I got your call, Nick. Good boy. But we were cut off. It sounded like some kind of altercation was going on. I heard yelling.  
  
Nick said slowly, I'm willing to tell you the whole story, Det. Darger, but not until my lawyer is present.  
  
Darger smiled slightly as he realized that his act was not going to work with Nick, at least not at the moment. he said, then we'll wait.  
  
Lister returned, and handed the glass of water to Nick, who took it gratefully. He was thirsty, and he quickly emptied about half the glass.  
  
A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. Fredricks went over, and opened the door to Nick's lawyer, Robert Colden. Colden was a man in his early fifties, medium height, with white hair, and steel-rimmed glasses. It was obvious that he'd been relaxing at home when he got Nick's call, as he wore a casual pair of khakis and a short-sleeved printed shirt. As he entered the living room he said, You okay, Nick?  
  
Nick said, nodding, although privately Colden thought he looked pretty shaken up.  
  
Detective Darger, I would like a few minutes alone with my client.  
  
Certainly, counselor, Darger said agreeably. Be my guest.  
  
Come on Nick, let's go upstairs, and talk.  
  
Nick preceded Colden up the stairs, and led him into his bedroom. Colden shut the door behind them.  
  
First, Nick, I need to know what you've told the police.  
  
Nick nodded, took a breath, and said, Other than identifying myself, and, uh...and Mandy, the only thing I told them was...uh...that, that Mandy fell, and hit her head.  
  
That's it?  
  
That's it.  
  
Okay. Good. Now, tell me everything that happened tonight. Don't leave anything out.  
  
In a strained voice, Nick proceeded to describe to Colden how Mandy had shown up at his doorstep just as he was arriving home, how she had wanted to take a shower and come down off her high before going to the police. Nick told his attorney that after he left Mandy in the bathroom, he had put in a call to Det. Darger, but that before he could get out more than than the fact that Mandy was there, Mandy had come storming out of the bathroom, hit him in the head, and made for the front door.  
  
Nick became more agitated as he was finishing his recital. I-I-I ran after her, Bob, and...uh...tried to stop her...to stop her from leaving. I had her around the waist, and we, we were struggling, and...and suddenly...suddenly she twisted free...and, uh, she...she fell backwards into the, the sunken living room.... That's, that's what happened. I swear it. He was visibly distraught now.  
  
Colden nodded. You're sure? You're sure in the heat of the moment you didn't somehow throw her to the floor? Maybe in reaction to her hurting you somehow? Something like that?  
  
No, No, Nick said with conviction, repeatedly shaking his head. It happened just the way I...the way I told you. She slipped free, and...and...I guess lost her balance, and she fell.  
  
Okay. Then you called 911.  
  
Nick's hand went to the back of his head.  
  
Then what?  
  
Then, uh...then my-my father showed up at the door.  
  
Colden showed his surprise. Were you expecting him?  
  
No, he, he just...just stopped by.  
  
Colden nodded, and said, Did he come in?  
  
No.... No, I-I-I didn't let him into the house. I talked to him at, at the door, and I, uh, I got rid of him as soon...as soon as I could.... I...ya know, I didn't want him mixed up in, in any of this.  
  
Colden nodded. He still doesn't know anything about the events at the strip club, does he, Nick?  
  
Nick's look of distress increased, and he shook his head .  
  
You realize he's certain to find out now.... I hate to say it, Nick, but your name's going to be all over the papers tomorrow. This is a lurid story, what with the two deaths, and Mandy's profession. The papers eat that up. It's not going to be pleasant. And, I'm sorry to say, even if you're cleared in her death there are liable to be consequences to you, to your reputation. You need to prepare yourself for that possibility.  
  
Looking clearly unhappy at this pronouncement, Nick said quietly, I understand, Bob.  
  
Okay, so you got rid of your dad. What then?  
  
The paramedics arrived, and...and started working on Mandy.  
  
What did they say her condition was?  
  
Uh, they said she, she wasn't breathing...and she, uh...didn't have...didn't have a pulse.... They started CPR.... Then, uh, the two, two uniformed cops showed up.... After a few minutes, the paramedics took Mandy.... Nick paused for breath. took her to the hospital. The pain of this recollection was apparent in Nick's body language and expression.  
  
Hhmm. You said Mandy was high?  
  
Yeah, she told me that...that she'd bought, uh, an eight ball that morning, and, and, uh, had ended up using the whole thing.  
  
Colden looked thoughtful. That could very well be a factor in her collapse, Nick, that's a lot of coke at one shot.  
  
Nick didn't say anything. He realized he hadn't considered this possibility. He had just assumed that the fall had caused her death, that she'd broken her neck, or, or something. It hadn't occurred to him that the drugs might have played a part. Could that be it?... He just didn't know. He didn't know anything about Mandy's own tolerance for coke. He only knew that she had been busted for drug possession, and that was how she'd come to meet Dale Petrocki, his probation officer. He suddenly became aware that Bob was speaking again.   
  
Sorry, what? Nick said.  
  
I said, What happened after they took Mandy out?  
  
Oh, I, uh... sat there in the living room waiting...waiting for you.  
  
You didn't say anything else to the police while you waited?  
  
Nick was a bit distracted in his reply. He was still considering whether it was really possible that Mandy's heart had stopped due to an overdose.  
  
Okay, when did Darger get here?  
  
Uhm, about, about four or five minutes before you, I guess.  
  
What did he say to you?  
  
He, uh, he told me he'd gotten my phone call...but that, uh...that we were cut off. He said...he said he'd heard sounds of, of an altercation...in, in the background. He...he asked me about that. But I told him...I told him I couldn't say anything until, until uh, you got here.  
  
Good. Good. You did just right.... Okay, is there anything else? Anything you might have forgotten to tell me?  
  
Nick shook his head. No, no I don't think so.  
  
I want you to be sure, Nick. Think. Is there anything you've left out?  
  
Nick was silent for a moment as he reviewed the events of the evening, and what he'd already told Bob. he said at last. There isn't anything else.  
  
Okay.... Ready to go downstairs, and talk to Darger?  
  
Nick still looked a little shaky, but he answered without hesitation,   
  
All right. Now, remember, you tell him exactly what happened here tonight, and that's it. Don't volunteer any unrelated information, don't speculate, just stick to the facts. Okay?  
  
Nick nodded his understanding.  
  
If Darger asks you a question, and you have any doubts about answering it, you get my okay first, right?  
  
  
  
Okay, let's go.  
  
The two men returned downstairs. Darger and Officer Lister were still there, but Officer Fredricks was not in sight. Nick took his original seat, and Colden stood next to the mantel. My client is ready to talk to you now, Detective, Colden said.  
  
said Darger, but before he could say anything further, Fredricks walked back into the house, and addressed himself to the detective. I found her car, and it's unlocked. I could see a purse on the front seat, and some clothes and things on the back seat.  
  
Good, good. You'd better go back out there, and keep an eye on it until Forensics arrives.  
  
Fredricks nodded, and went back outside.  
  
Okay, Nick, Darger began. Let's hear your story.  
  
Nick began to repeat the information he had given to Colden upstairs, but before he had gotten too far, the phone rang. Nick looked to Darger for permission to answer it, and the detective nodded his assent. Walking over to the steps where he had earlier abandoned the cordless phone, Nick picked it up, and headed into the study. Holding the phone to his ear with his right hand, he made a nervous swipe at the back of his head with the left. He was afraid this was going to be his Dad. "Hello," he said tentatively.  
  
Burton's voice came over the line with swift urgency, "Nick, you all right? I got your message. What's going on, son?"  
  
Nick looked pained, and said quietly, "I can't talk now, Dad."  
  
"What? Why not?"  
  
"I, I just can't. I'll call you later, okay?"  
  
"Son," Burton said insistently, "I need to know what's going on. That...that message.... Christ! You scared the bejesus out of me with that message, Nicholas."  
  
"I-I'm sorry, but I can't explain now, Dad. I-I-I can't.  
  
"I'm coming over, Nicholas. I'll be there in twenty minutes."  
  
"Dad, please don't.... Dad?"  
  
But it was too late, his father had already hung up. Nick stared at the phone in his hand with a feeling of renewed despair and helplessness. Then turned slowly, and headed back into the other room.  
  
"Who was that?" Darger inquired with interest.  
  
Nick just stared at him with no expression, and didn't answer the question.  
  
Darger let it drop, and said, "Okay, have a seat, Fallin. Let's hear the rest of your story."  
  
In painful detail, Nick laid out for Darger exactly what had happened at the house earlier that night. He only withheld the part about his father's visit. It had no bearing on the facts, and he didn't want Darger bothering his father with questions. Things were going to be bad enough as it was when Dad found out about all this. And based on that phone call, that was going to be pretty soon now.  
  
Darger had not interrupted Nick while he was describing the night's events. Now he went back and asked questions on several points. When he finished he said, Okay, Fallin, let's go over this again...  
  
----+----  
  
Nick had just finished relating his story for the second time, interrupted by the occasional query from Darger, when the detective turned to Officer Lister, and said, "What hospital did they take Mandy Gresler to?"  
  
"St. Bart's," Lister replied.  
  
"Okay, get on the horn, and find out her condition."   
  
Then Darger turned back to Nick. "In the meantime, Fallin, I'm declaring this a crime scene. I'm not going to hold you.... For now, I'm going to believe your version of events, but we'll be checking for forensic evidence to confirm, or disprove, your story. Understand?"  
  
Nick nodded dispiritedly.  
  
"I don't want you leaving the city though. Is that clear?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
A couple minutes passed in silence before Lister came back into the room. He glanced at Nick, and then turned his attention to Darger. "She's dead. The emergency room docs called it at 9:05PM."   
  
Nick hung his head, and wiped a hand down his face. When he looked back up his eyes were damp.  
  
Darger stood up purposefully, and directed his next comment to Nick's lawyer. "Well, now I guess we wait for the autopsy report."   
  
He glanced around the room, and then turned back to Nick. "Well, Fallin, you'll have to clear out of here now. Officer Lister will take you upstairs so you can pack a bag. Be prepared to be gone for a couple days." Nick nodded with weary acceptance, and started toward the stairs. Darger leaned in close to the officer, and said quietly, "Make sure he doesn't take anything but the essentials. Got it?"  
  
Lister said, "Right," and turned to follow after Nick.   
  
After the two men had left, Darger turned his attention to Colden, and said, So counselor, get many clients like young Mr. Fallin there? Colden chose to ignore the barbed remark.  
  
Only a few minutes had passed since Nick and the patrolman had gone upstairs when the front door opened, and Burton Fallin strode in, calling urgently as he did so, "Nick! Nick, where are you?"  
  
Darger walked into the foyer to intercept him. Placing one hand on Burton's chest to stop his forward progress, he said in a semi-aggressive tone of voice, "Excuse me. Who are you?"  
  
Burton glanced down briefly at the hand barring his way, then glared at Darger, and said, "I'm Burton Fallin. Who are you, and where's my son?" At that moment, he recognized Robert Colden, who had been a couple steps behind Darger. "Bob, what's going on here? he demanded. Where's Nick?"  
  
Colden held up his hands as if attempting to calm down the older Fallin. "He's fine, Burton. He's upstairs."  
  
Before Colden had finished speaking, Darger said, "I'm Det. Darger from the Pittsburgh P.D., Mr. Fallin, and I'm afraid you'll have to leave. This is a crime scene."  
  
"A crime scene? Burton said incredulously. What are you talking about? What kind of crime scene?"  
  
"Mandy Gresler died here tonight."  
  
"Mandy Gresler? Who, who is Mandy Gresler?"  
  
Darger exchanged a look with Colden, and then said, "I guess your son hasn't been keeping you up-to-date with recent events, Mr. Fallin. He was a witness to a double murder about three weeks ago. At least, that's what he claims.  
  
"What?" Burton said loudly, his face turning red. "What the hell's he talking about, Bob?"  
  
Colden shook his head regretfully. "You know I can't talk to you about your son's legal affairs, Burton. It's privileged."  
  
Burton looked extremely irritated for a second, but then called out loudly, "Nicholas!... Nicholas!"  
  
Nick had heard his father call out for him when he first arrived. When Nick made no move to respond, Officer Lister had looked at him curiously, but Nick had just continued to gather up his things. He had caught snatches of the conversation that was taking place below since then, but had tried to concentrate on getting together everything that he would need for the next couple days. It was not easy to focus on that task, though. He found himself straining to pick up what was being said by his father and the two other men. Nick's bag was almost packed, when he heard his father calling out loudly, "Nicholas!... Nicholas!" He quickly threw the last couple of items into his bag, picked up the two suits he had laid out on the bed, and headed down the stairs, trailed closely by Officer Lister.  
  
Burton's head rose as he saw his son and a uniformed police officer coming down the steps. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that Nick seemed okay - physically at least. He was wearing the same clothes Burton had seen him in earlier. Nick's hair was mussed, and there was a look of strain on his face, but other than that he looked all right.  
  
"You okay, son?" Burton asked with concern, as Nick came down the last few steps. Nick shook his head "yes", but wouldn't meet his father's eyes.  
  
Darger, notebook in hand, said to Nick, "I'll need a number where I can reach you, Fallin."  
  
Before Nick could answer, Burton said in a tone brooking no opposition, "He'll be at my house." When Nick made no objection, Burton recited his home phone number for the detective. Darger nodded, and scribbled the number down.  
  
"Come on, Nick. Let's go," Burton said, standing clear of the open door. Nick started for the doorway, but Darger put a hand on his arm. "I'll be talking to you again, Fallin. You can count on that.   
  
Nick gave him a blank stare, and then walked out of the house. Burton gave the detective a last look, and then followed Nick out. Colden fell in behind the two Fallins. Darger stood at the doorway, and watched the men as they walked away from the house. Then he turned back to Officer Lister who had been standing in the background, and began issuing new orders.  
  
As the three men reached the curb, Colden said, "Nick, we need to talk further about this." Then examining the younger man more closely, he added, "But I guess we can do it in the morning. You look beat."  
  
Nick nodded, and said, "Thanks, Bob. I-I really appreciate your being there tonight. Thank you."  
  
"That's what you pay me for, Nick," Colden replied, but grinned to take the sting out of the remark. "Talk to you tomorrow." He turned toward the older Fallin then, and with a nod of farewell, said, "Burton," and then departed.  
  
Father and son stood on the deserted sidewalk, and watched the other man walk away. At last, Burton said, "Come on, son. My car's over here." Nick followed his father wordlessly to the Cadillac. He had yet to meet his father's gaze, and he dreaded the conversation that he knew was still to come that night. His father wasn't likely to wait until tomorrow for an explanation of what he was mixed up in this time. Nick dreaded telling Burton about his involvement with Dale Petrocki's deal to buy the strip club, and the subsequent disaster that had unfolded from that fateful misstep. God! He just wanted to close his eyes, and try to sleep, try to erase the picture that seemed permanently etched on the back of his eyeballs -- Mandy -- lifeless -- on his living room floor. God! He felt a shudder pass through his frame as he relived that moment. At that physical manifestation of his son's inner horror, Burton glanced over at Nick, but didn't say anything. He just opened the rear passenger door, took the overnight bag and suits from his son, and placed them in the back of the car. Then he waited for Nick to get in. Once he had, Burton walked around to the other side, and took his own seat behind the wheel. Looking at Nick once more, he started the engine, and pulled away from the curb.   
  
The two men were silent on the twenty minute drive to Burton's house. Burton was full of questions, but had decided not to raise any of them until he had Nick safely home. His own emotions were at war with one another. On one hand, he was angry at Nick for concealing whatever his part was in this double murder that the detective had mentioned. The detective -- Darger, that was his name -- had said the killings had taken place about three weeks ago. "Three weeks ago," Burton thought with angry frustration, "Three weeks, and he hasn't told me a thing! Not a damn thing!"   
  
On the other hand, Burton had been immensely relieved on his second visit to the house to find Nick safe and sound. That message that Nick had left on his machine.... His son had sounded so distraught, so...lost. Burton had teared up listening to that heart-breaking message -- his son apologizing for "everything", acknowledging the reason he had come back to Pittsburgh was to spend more time with his father, and ending with that last agonizing statement -- "I love you, and I just want to apologize." Remembering that final statement from Nick, Burton's eyes welled with tears again. He hadn't heard an I love you out of Nick since he was just a boy, probably not since the divorce. Yes, if he was honest with himself, probably not since the divorce.   
  
Listening to the message, Burton had not known, at first, what to make of it. According to the time stamp, it couldn't have been recorded more than five minutes after Burton had left Nick's front door. What could have possessed Nick to make such a call? Burton didn't think it could just be his own revelation about the deal with Caldwell, the deal to ensure that Nick would not do jail time for his drug offense.   
  
Burton had played the message again. This time his son's words struck cold fear into his heart. It almost sounded like Nick was saying goodbye. Could he.... Oh my God! Could he be contemplating suicide? Burton's heart said, "no", but his lawyer's mind considered the question carefully. Could Nick be depressed, or...or back on the drugs? Could it be something like that? Could the realization that his father had put his own career in jeopardy to save him have pushed his son over the edge? He couldn't believe it, but at the same time he couldn't entirely dismiss it either. He often seemed at a loss to know what was going on in Nick's head. Nicholas wasn't an easy one to figure out, even for his own father.   
  
It was at that moment, that Burton had picked up the phone, and called Nick. His relief upon hearing his son's voice had been overwhelming. He had felt almost light-headed in the wake of the emotions that had washed over him. When Nick had refused to talk to him, though, Burton had had no hesitation in heading back over to his son's house to demand some answers, regardless of what Nicholas said. If nothing else, from the sound of that message, he knew the boy was in a lot of mental pain, and he didn't intend to let Nick bear that pain alone this time. Not this time.  
  
Glancing over at his son now, Burton saw that Nick's head was back against the headrest, his eyes closed. He felt strong emotion threatening to overcome him again, and he quickly turned his eyes back to the road. "Get him home," he said to himself. "Get him home, then deal with the rest."  
  
----+----  
  
Burton pulled the sedan into the garage. He saw that Nick still sat with eyes closed. Burton got out of the car, and walked around to Nick's door. He opened it, and said quietly, We're home, son. Nick opened his eyes, ran a hand down his face slowly, and then climbed out of the car. He hadn't actually been asleep, he had just not been ready to face the interrogation that was sure to come. He saw his father reach into the back seat, and grab his overnight bag and suits, and then the two men walked into the house together. As they came into the hallway, Burton said, Come on into the kitchen, Nick. I'll make us some coffee. Nick followed his father silently into the kitchen. He leaned against a counter, arms folded, while Burton filled the coffee maker, and hit the on' switch.   
  
While they waited for the coffee to brew, Burton studied his son. Even though Nick was looking away from his father, he could see his face was taut with strain. Burton said in a level tone. But he got no response, no indication that he had even been heard. Nicholas, I'm not angry (he was; but he wasn't going to let Nick know that right now). Son, I just need to know what's going on. What, what you've gotten yourself mixed up in...how you were involved in those killings, and what, uhm, what happened with this, this woman Mandy Gresler tonight.  
  
Nick still didn't reply, and Burton let out a long sigh, rubbing a hand across the sparse hair atop his head. He decided to try a different tact. Nick, that message you left on my machine tonight.... He couldn't go on, and had to take a second to collect himself. When he did his eyes were moist. Son, I, I love you too.... You must know that. I just want to help you out, here, Nicholas. Let me help you.  
  
Nick's eyes had teared up as his father spoke. He looked stricken. Slowly he shook his head, , and really looked at his father for the first time since he had reappeared at his door. Burton saw the stark emotion on his son's face, and didn't say anything more.   
  
When the coffee was finished, Burton poured them each a cup, and motioned for Nick to move into the dining room.  
  
Nick complied. After he was seated at the table, Burton placed a cup in front of him, then took a seat opposite Nick. Both men sipped silently at the restorative. After a moment, Burton said gently, Tell me about it, son.  
  
The pained look returned to Nick's face, and he stroked a hand down the back of his head. He shifted in his chair. At last he said, You, you remember when I told you that my-my probation officer was going to write me up on some technical violations?  
  
Burton nodded.  
  
Well, he offered to make me a deal (both men winced internally at the sound of that word). He, he and his girlfriend Mandy were trying to, uh, to buy the strip club that Mandy worked at--  
  
This girl tonight was a stripper? Burton interrupted.  
  
Nick replied, and Burton's face showed mild disgust at that revelation.  
  
Anyway, Dale offered to forget about my violations if I, if I helped him with the purchase of the club. You know, vetted the contract, that kind of thing. Nick glanced up at his father's face, and then back down again. You, you were in the middle of your hearings for the judgeship, and I-I-I didn't want to hurt your chances, so...so I agreed.  
  
Burton said with weary defeat.  
  
Nick glanced his father's way again. Then slowly continued his explanation. He told his dad how he had learned that Mandy was actually in league with the owner of the club, Lenny Getgin, to cheat Dale, that the two of them had planned to do Dale out of the $4000 earnest money that he had given Getgin when he signed the contract.  
  
When I told Dale that Mandy hadn't even applied for a loan he wanted me to, to go over to the club with him. I refused, and he said...he said if I went with him he'd, uh, he'd overlook any future infractions. Nick raised shamed eyes to his father. I-I agreed. We got to the club before it was open. When we came in, we found Lenny and-and Mandy kissing at the bar.... Dale got really angry. He, he pushed Mandy around, and then told Lenny that he was going to, uh, to shut down the club.... He went behind the bar, and picked up the phone, and.... Nick's breathing rate increased. And Lenny...Lenny picked up this big fire extinguisher, and bashed Dale in the head with it.   
  
Burton had been listening intently to his son's recital, but now he looked up, startled. He had read something in the papers about the case at the time, of course, but the details had not stuck with him. It had just been one more senseless, unsolved crime. Nothing that touched him in any way.  
  
Nick, wide-eyed now, continued with growing agitation in his voice. I-I-I, uh, I ran behind the bar, and tried to stop Lenny. We struggled, and I went down, and-and...Lenny was about to, to hit me with the extinguisher when, uh...when Mandy shot him. He noticed that his father now wore a shocked expression. After a couple seconds Nick continued. I...when I got up, Mandy was pointing the gun at my head. Burton started, but didn't interrupt. Nick wiped at his face. I-I-I told her to put the gun down, but she just, she just said, What are ya gonna do?' He looked at his father. Dad, I, I didn't know what to do.... I couldn't think. .. Then I saw the fire alarm a few feet away. I, uh, I told Mandy that I was going to pull the fire alarm, and, and leave.. . I moved toward the alarm slowly, and when, uh, when it didn't look like she was going to stop me, I pulled the handle, and then, well, then I got the hell out of there.  
  
Burton was stunned. All this had happened to Nick -- almost getting his head bashed in, almost getting shot! -- and he hadn't told him anything about it? Burton was too overcome, too saddened for speech. Nick had been carrying all this around, and hadn't felt he could share his burden with his father. This saddened Burton immensely.  
  
Burton put a hand to his moustache, and asked quietly, What happened then?  
  
Nick sighed, and ran a hand down his hair again. I was up all night.... I, I wasn't sure what to do. For all practical purposes, Mandy had been my, my client in the deal to purchase the club, so I knew...I knew there was a chance that her actions might be covered by privilege.... I just, I just didn't know what to do.... I finally decided that since she hadn't applied for a loan to cover her part of the purchase price, she was not...not acting in good faith, and therefore...therefore any obligation I might have had to her was null and void. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and sighed heavily. In the morning, I, I called Bob, and asked him to meet me at the police station. That's where I first met Det. Darger. He was the one who, who took my statement.  
  
Burton nodded, and then asked quietly. Nicholas, why didn't you tell me any of this? Why, son?  
  
Nick's look turned to one of distress, and his eyes grew wet. I.... It was.... He finished all in a rush. It was just another screw-up. Another mess I'd gotten myself into. I.... I.... He couldn't finish his statement, and hung his head in consternation. He was such a fuck-up, he thought to himself, such a total loser. Why did his father continue to have anything to do with him? If he had a son who had screwed up as many times as he had, he'd be glad to see the last of him. But his father had never done that. His father had always tried to fix things', to clean up his messes. Nick knew in his heart that it was long past the time that he should stand on his own two feet, refuse to let his father intercede on his behalf. That's what he'd been trying to do here. He'd been trying to deal with it on his own, and look what happened? Dale, Lenny, and now Mandy (he shuddered inwardly), now Mandy -- all dead. God! It was too much. That final scene played out in his head once more. He saw Mandy fall...heard her head hit the floor...saw her lying there so still, not breathing. Christ!  
  
Burton didn't know what thoughts had been passing through Nick's head, but he saw the agony on his son's face, and the eyes that threatened to brim over with tears. He decided to give Nick a chance to collect himself, so went into the kitchen to fetch the coffee pot. Lingering in the kitchen for an additional moment, he then returned to the dining room, and topped off both Nick's cup and his own. Then he set the pot down on the table. Nick put both hands around the large ceramic cup, as if seeking its warmth. After a moment, he took a drink.   
  
Burton thought he could now ask the next very important question. Looking steadily at his son, he said, Nick, what happened tonight...how did that come about? Burton hadn't been able to bring himself to say the words: Nick, how did that girl die in your house?  
  
Nick, a little calmer now, took another swig of coffee, then told his father about the events of this past week, how Det. Darger had told him that Mandy would seek him out, and how Mandy had jumped into his car on Monday night. He had told Darger that Mandy had contacted him, but it turned out that Mandy had stolen one of his credit cards, and the next day, Darger had shown up at the office waving a credit card receipt from a motel in McKeesport, demanding an explanation. Darger had threatened to haul him in for probation violations stemming from the incident at the club, if he didn't help him find Mandy. Then tonight, Mandy had shown up at his doorstep as he was arriving home.   
  
She told me, Nick continued, she told me she was ready to go to the police, but she was...she was high, and...and needed a-a shower and a cigarette first. So, uh, so I let her come in to take a shower--  
  
You what? Burton exclaimed. You let her into your house just like that? You let a wanted felon take a shower in--  
  
Now it was Nick's turn to interrupt. He said urgently, I didn't have a choice, Dad! I had to keep her in one place long enough for the police to get there. Once I heard the water running, I-I called Darger, and told him she was there. But Mandy must have, uh, must have been listening...at the door.... She flew out at me, and hit me over the head with...with something, I don't know. Than she ran down the stairs.   
  
At this point in the story, Nick seemed no longer able to sit still. He got up from the chair abruptly, and paced the room. When he came to rest, he said, I-I-I ran after her, but she managed to get the front door open before I got there. She.... I, I grabbed her around the waist, and...and tried to hold her.... We, we struggled, and then, and then.... I don't know exactly what happened.... She...somehow she fell backwards into the living room, and-and hit her head. He drew in a deep breath. All I know is that I didn't cause her fall, Dad. I.... Somehow she slipped out of my grasp, and...and must have lost her balance, or-or something. I don't know.... Nick's voice faltered, and he wiped a hand across his eyes. Recounting this last part of the tale had left him visibly shaken.  
  
Burton remained silent, and after a moment, Nick continued in a halting voice. I-I-I checked for a pulse, but there wasn't one. I didn't know what else to do, so I called 911. He paused, and then looked at Burton. Right as I was hanging up the phone, you...you showed up.  
  
Burton exclaimed in disbelief. You mean that girl was lying there on the floor while you and I were talking at the door? While I was telling you about Caldwell? He paused, and then said softly, God, son.  
  
Nick nodded. That's why I was trying so hard to get you to leave, Dad. I didn't want you there when the police showed up. I-I didn't want you involved in any of this.  
  
Burton was now nodding his head in understanding. He had seen at the time how Nick was trying to get rid of him, but he had chalked it up to his son still being angry with him over Caldwell's appointment as managing partner. And, frankly, he had been so intent on conveying his own message (his own confession, he thought derisively) that he hadn't stopped to analyze why Nick was acting in such a distraught, distracted fashion. It was only later, after he had gotten home and listened to that heart-wrenching message, that Nick's behavior had hit home.  
  
Looking back at his son now, Burton realized that Nick looked completely washed-out. The recital of events had seemed to take everything out of him. He was pale, and his lower lip was quivering slightly. His eyes were glistening. Burton felt a wave of compassion pass through him, followed quickly by the familiar desire to protect his son. he said, but Nick didn't let him finish his thought. He turned his agonized gaze on his father, and said in a broken voice, I tried, Dad.... I tried so hard to make it all come out right...to-to handle it. I-I-I really tried. He looked ready to burst into tears, and Burton's heart ached to see it...to see his boy in such distress.   
  
Getting up from his chair, Burton walked over to Nick, stopping right in front of him. Nick glanced quickly at his father, and then away, biting his lip in an attempt to keep his emotions in check. Burton hesitated, then leaned forward, and wrapped his arms around his son. At first, Nick was rigid in his embrace, but after a few seconds, he let himself relax into his father's hold, his own arms coming up to rest on Burton's back. As he did so, Nick gave into the tears that he had been holding back so precariously. Head resting on his father's shoulder, he sobbed. The harsh sound of his son's grief struck Burton to the quick, and he felt a tear or two slipping down his own cheek in response. He rubbed a hand up and down Nick's back, and tried to comfort him. It's all right. It's all right, son, he whispered, over and over. Everything's gonna be all right.   
  
Burton realized that the last time he had held his son like this had been the day Nick's mother had died. That morning, twelve-year-old Nick had rushed into his father's arms, sobbing wildly. But a brief moment later he had pulled away, eyes angry, and making accusations, accusations that Burton was in some way responsible for his mother's death, that the cancer had been his fault. Burton had tried to respond, to reason with Nick, but Anne's mother had interceded, and put an end to the conversation. Burton wondered sometimes if a lot of their problems didn't stem from that one moment. He and Nick had never discussed the topic again. Nick's grandmother had told Burton later that Nick hadn't really meant the words he'd said, and that he was sorry for saying them, and that had been the end of it.   
  
Burton sighed, and held Nick closer, a hand going up to stroke his son's hair. Nick seemed to be calming down now, the torrent of tears receding to a quiet trickle. Gulping for breath, Nick said raggedly, It's so hard, Dad.... It's so hard to hold all the threads together, to, to stay away from the...the drugs, a-a-and handle all the cases at the clinic and my...my responsibilities at the firm. He brought up a hand, and wiped at his nose awkwardly. It's like...it's like I'm trying to keep all these balls up in the air at once...like a, a juggler. Nick drew in a quavering breath. And I know...all the time, I just know...I-I-I'm only a few seconds away from...from dropping one. Always...just a few seconds away.... And if, if I drop one...if I drop one, the rest will come raining down on my head...and that'll be it.... I'll never be able to...to...get them all back up in the air again. Ever.... And I-I-I can't stop either cause, cause if I do, I know, I know I'll lose them all that way too. I know that. I just know it.  
  
Burton was speechless. He had no idea that Nick had felt this way. He knew it was stressful for his son to split his time between the cases at the clinic and Burton's own firm (former firm', he corrected himself disheartedly). He knew Nick was working a lot of hours, but he had no idea that he had felt the stress to this extreme. It pained him to realize that he hadn't known. But then Nick had never been one to share his feelings, not, at least, since his mother's death. He kept everything inside. Half the time Burton didn't know what his son was feeling, and usually any effort to find out was met with resistance. Nick wasn't a touchy-feely person. Despite the present circumstances, Burton found himself laughing silently at that last thought. No, Nick definitely didn't fall into that category. He preferred to keep his inner thoughts to himself. And Burton tried to respect that. Now he wondered if that had been a mistake too, if he should have tried harder to get Nick to share his feelings in this last year and a half since his arrest. He might not have succeeded, but maybe he should have tried. Or, maybe he should have urged Nick to see a therapist, like the drug counselor had suggested. Nick had been totally against that idea, and Burton hadn't wanted to push it, not putting that much confidence in all that talk-therapy mumble-jumble himself. He grew up in a world where people dealt with their own problems, usually in the privacy of their own family. They certainly didn't seek out a stranger, and air their troubles, not by a long shot.  
  
Burton was interrupted from his musings by the realization that Nick had raised his head, and was trying to step back, to disengage from his embrace. Burton released his hold on his son, and watched as Nick turned away, and retrieved his handkerchief from his suit pocket. Finding it, he wiped at his nose, and ran a hand across his eyes. They were visibly red and swollen from his recent crying jag. Burton realized that Nick was making a concerted study of the dining room floor. He seemed to be shamed by his recent outburst. Burton stuck out his hand, and touched Nick's arm. Son, don't, don't worry about it. We all lose control sometimes, it just, it just takes different forms, that's all. You don't have anything to be ashamed of.  
  
Nick gave the briefest nod of his head, but continued to stare at the floor boards. You okay now? Burton asked with gentle concern, his hand still on his son's arm. Nick nodded again, more firmly this time. Burton continued. Okay, whadaya say we call it a night? Things, uh...ya know, things always have a way of looking better in the morning. All right?  
  
Nick nodded again, but this time echoed his father's last word, saying in a faint voice. After which, he drew in a weary breath. God, it had been such a long, such a horrible day. He would be thankful to see it come to an end.  
  
Nick retrieved his stuff from the kitchen, and then father and son walked slowly up the stairs together. Burton made for the master bedroom, while Nick, without conscious thought, turned into the room that had been his in childhood. He hadn't slept here in almost five years. The last time was when he had moved back to Pittsburgh after accepting his father's offer to work at Fallin & Associates. He briefly recalled some of the emotions that had flitted through him that first time he had reentered this room then, but he was too worn out to give them any attention now. All he wanted to do was fall down on his old bed, and sleep (God, he hoped he could sleep). Putting his bag down, he began to rummage through it for the things he would need for the night, then, exhausted, walked slowly into the bathroom to get ready for bed.  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Juggling Act (2/3)  
**Date Written:** 6/03/02  
**Author: **JanetD  
**Rating:** PG (language)  
**Summary:** This story picks up where The Beginning left off. It contains spoilers for The Beginning and Lawyers, Guns, and Money.  
**Author's Notes:** Many thanks to Goldie and Meghan for their assistance with this chapter.  
**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction. The characters in this story are borrowed from the TV show "The Guardian". No money is being made from this story. Any resemblance of a character in this story to any real person living or dead is purely coincidental. Likewise, any resemblance between an organization depicted in this story and any such actual organization is purely coincidental.  
  
Outside, it was a beautiful Friday morning in late May. Inside, bright sunlight streamed around the edges of the dark blue curtains hanging in the bedroom window. The increasing daylight at last succeeded in awaking the man who had been sleeping so soundly. Nick Fallin, chest bare, with the sheet pulled up around his waist, opened his eyes, and looked around himself, disoriented. This wasn't his bedroom. No, wait, this was his bedroom, but not in his own house, in his father's. He was in his old bedroom in his father's house. At that realization, the events of the previous evening came flooding back: his accusing his father of trading the firm for the judgeship; his dad showing up at his house to tell him that he'd made a deal with Caldwell to keep Nick from serving time, and Mandy...Mandy dying on his living room floor.   
  
God! Nick rolled over on his side, and brought the pillow up over his head to block out both the light of day and the disturbing memories. But it was no use, his mind continued to churn through the happenings of the previous night. When he got to the part where he'd sobbed in his father's arms, Nick turned red with embarrassment, and let out a groan. Oh, shit, he couldn't believe that he'd done that! He hadn't broken down in front of his father like that since his mother died. But still, he had to admit that for those few minutes it had felt good to be held in his father's arms, to just...just let go. It had been wonderful to finally be able to unburden himself to *someone*. He had felt an immense sense of relief upon confessing to his dad just how hard it was for him to hold it all together. Nick knew that because he was smart, and things came so easily to him, people assumed that he could cope with whatever was thrown his way. That he'd, he'd think his way through it, or around it...something. But he couldn't, not always, and last night had made that abundantly clear. He had been in over his head, way over his head, and look at the outcome. Three people dead, and his own future possibly hanging in tatters.   
  
Nick found his thoughts returning to Mandy. Last night, his lawyer, Bob Colden, had suggested that Mandy's death might be drug-related. At the time, Nick had briefly considered it, but had been too overwhelmed by the evening's events to give the suggestion his complete attention. Now, examining the circumstances of her death with a clearer head, Nick concluded that it did seem very likely that she could have died of an overdose. When he thought about it, he realized that the way Mandy had fallen to the floor was a clue. She had made no effort to break her fall. He didn't even think she had cried out, had she? He wasn't sure, but he didn't think so. Maybe he'd be off the hook for that, at least. But there were still the deaths at the strip club.... Now that Mandy was dead there was no one to confirm his version of events. Nick knew if Darger wanted to, he could still cause him problems over that.   
  
Nick sighed loudly, and shifted in the bed. What was he going to do? Before his father's revelation, he had been set on severing his ties with F&A (no, C&A, he corrected himself, grimly). He'd been planning on starting his own firm with Jake and some of the other associates who were unhappy with the changes at F&A. But then...then that slimy little bastard Lichtman had threatened to cause trouble for his dad if Nick left -- if he left and took his own clients and his father's former clients with him. That was when Nick had confronted his father to find out what Lichtman had on him, what it was that Mitchell could hold over Dad's head. Nick felt ashamed now thinking back on how he had accused his dad of making a deal with Caldwell to get the federal judgeship. He had actually accused his father of trading his, Nick's, future for the bench. He felt himself color again at that memory. He had been completely wrong. Dad hadn't made a deal to gain anything for himself. No, at the time of Nick's arrest, he had made an arrangement with the senator to use his influence with the D.A. to keep Nick from going to prison. Nick had learned all this from his father last night, along with the fact that Mitchell Lichtman had kept records of the whole thing, of all Burton and Caldwell's conversations.   
  
Now Nick knew what Lichtman had meant by that veiled threat that he could make life pretty miserable for his father. Yet...when Nick thought about it, he knew that Lichtman couldn't expose his dad's under-the-table dealings without revealing Caldwell's own part in it. But, by doing that, he would be cutting his own throat. Caldwell was his bread and butter. Why wreck Caldwell's reputation, and destroy his own meal ticket? It made no sense. Nick thought that it was likely that Lichtman was counting on just the threat to his father being enough to hold him, Nick, in line, to keep him at the firm. He didn't see how Mitchell would go through with it unless Caldwell had already ceased to be of value to him. He supposed that if C&A did go under, then Lichtman might decide to seek revenge on him by ruining his father's reputation, but not before that. Still...was it worth taking the risk? To risk Lichtman exposing his father's dirty little secret, ruining his reputation, and losing him the seat on the federal bench that he had just now secured? It was all so complicated. Nick sighed again, and punched his fist into the mattress in frustration.  
  
At that moment, Nick heard his father's footsteps approaching down the hall. He briefly considered feigning sleep, thinking it likely that his father would check on him, but he decided that was an unworthy trick to play on his dad after all he'd done for him last night, after all he'd done for him, period. A moment later, just as he had suspected, the door opened, and Burton stuck his head in. Nick brought his own head from under the pillow, and met his father's gaze with a steady one of his own.   
  
Burton was already dressed in a short-sleeved shirt, and khakis. That's right, Nick found himself thinking gloomily, his father wouldn't be going into the office today. His going-away party last night had been his final bow. He had made his exit from the firm that had once proudly been known as Fallin and Associates, but now would have to limp along sadly as Caldwell and Associates.... God, that still hurt.  
  
Morning, son, Burton said cheerfully.  
  
Nick replied, but couldn't find it in himself to be cheerful about it.  
  
How, uh, how'd you sleep? Burton inquired.  
  
Like the dead, Nick said, then shivered as he heard the phrase come out of his own mouth. God! Why did I say that? he wondered to himself.  
  
Burton didn't seem fazed by Nick's choice of words, and so Nick, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes, asked, What time is it?  
  
About 7:00. I thought I'd head downstairs, and make us some breakfast.  
  
Nick realized that he was hungry. He hadn't had anything to eat since yesterday morning. He'd been too busy to make time for lunch, and then with Mandy arriving on his doorstep, and everything that followed, there'd been no time for food, even if he had been able to stomach it. He realized suddenly that his dad was speaking again, and said,   
  
Burton repeated his last comment. I said, I'd see you downstairs then.  
  
Yeah, okay. Nick nodded as he spoke.  
  
Burton pulled the door to, and Nick climbed reluctantly out of bed. He wore only a simple pair of white boxers with a tiny print in blue. He didn't go in for pajamas, at least not normally. He raised his arms above his head, and stretched, yawning widely. Returning both arms to his side, he then put one hand up to his hair, scratched his head, and glanced around the room idly. God, he didn't really want to face the day ahead. He knew that the story of Mandy's death would be in the papers, probably under a headline like, Stripper wanted for murder found dead in lawyer's home. Shit! What a mess, what a god-awful mess he'd made for himself. He was pathetic.... Deciding it was wiser not to let his thoughts carry too far down that road, Nick turned, and headed for the bathroom. He might as well get dressed, and go downstairs. Staying up here wasn't going to solve anything. He would just have to deal with things as they came, one at a time. And the first thing to deal with was breakfast (and...his father).  
  
Burton looked up from his place at the stove when his son walked into the kitchen. He was pleased to see that Nick looked like his normal self this morning. He was dressed in black suit pants, a white dress shirt, and dark, patterned tie. He had his suit jacket thrown over his arm. He was the picture of self-possession.   
  
Nick glanced his father's way, and saw that he was making omelettes. Bacon was frying in a second pan. The smell of the bacon brought a rumble from his stomach. He really was hungry, and the food looked good. He was glad his father could cook. He realized he'd never really appreciated that when he was a boy, but he did now.  
  
Pour yourself some coffee, Nick, Burton directed, as he took a puff from the cigarette in his left hand. Nick walked over and laid his jacket across the couch, and then returned to the counter. His father already had an empty cup sitting there for him. He poured the coffee, and brought the cup to his lips, blowing on the hot liquid to cool it slightly before taking a sip. It tasted wonderful, and he took another sip gratefully. He leaned against the counter, and watched his dad cook.  
  
Burton glanced back at Nick, and then gestured to the paper sitting on the counter next to him. It's, uh, it's in this morning's paper, Nick.... It's not too bad. Could be worse.... It's on the front page of the Metro section.  
  
Nick grimaced, and walked over to retrieve the paper. Returning to the counter, he took another sip of his coffee, then set the cup down beside him so he could have both hands free to read the paper. He felt his heart rate increase as he thumbed through the paper looking for the Metro section. Locating the story, he scanned down it quickly:  
  
**Stripper dies in home of attorney**  
  
A local stripper, Mandy Gresler, 27, who had been wanted for questioning in the murders that occurred earlier this month at the Girls, Girls, Girls strip club at 909 Blakely died Thursday evening in the home of Nicholas Fallin, 32, son of prominent Pittsburgh attorney Burton Fallin. Police are refusing to release details of the incident at this time, but it is known that a 911 call was placed from Fallin's home in the 1900 block of Ellsworth in Shadyside at 8:37PM. The caller reported a woman with no heartbeat at that location. Paramedics responded to the scene, and Gresler was later rushed to St. Bartholomew's Hospital where doctors pronounced her dead at 9:05PM.   
  
Gresler, who had previously been convicted on two occasions for misdemeanor drug possession, had been employed at the downtown strip club for two years prior to the murders that occurred there on May 3rd. Killed in the incident were two local men, Dale Petrocki, 46, Gresler's boyfriend and former probation officer, and Lenny Getgin, 41, owner of the club. Petrocki died from a blow to the head with a fire extinguisher. Getgin was shot to death. A source inside the Police Dept. has revealed that a witness (who remains unidentified) had earlier named Gresler as the shooter in the death of Getgin.  
  
It is not known at this time what relationship, if any, existed between Nicholas Fallin and Gresler, and Fallin could not be reached for comment. Fallin was convicted in January 2001 of a misdemeanor charge of possession of cocaine, and is currently on probation for that offense. He is an attorney in the firm of Caldwell and Associates (formerly Fallin and Associates, the prestigious downtown law firm started by his father Burton in 1971). Burton Fallin resigned from the firm (now headed by former state senator, Nathan Caldwell) this week after his appointment Monday to the Federal bench.  
  
After skimming the article, Nick returned to the top, and read it all again slowly. He supposed his father was right. It could have been worse. But still, seeing his conviction for cocaine possession spelled out in black and white like that was upsetting. He'd expected it, of course, but it still bothered him. And it brought his arrest, and his drug use, back to the attention of both clients and perspective clients. Thinking of his clients brought him back to the question of what he was going to do now that he knew what cards Lichtman really held. But, he couldn't decide that now. He needed time to think about it, and time to gather more information on Caldwell and Lichtman, and the situation, in general.  
  
Looking up, Nick realized that his father was watching him, waiting for his reaction to the story. Nick said, in the best tone he could manage, You're right. It's not too bad. Could be a lot worse.  
  
Burton nodded, and turned to pick up the two plates that now each held a steaming Western omelette. He asked Nick to get the platter of bacon, and the two men proceeded to the dining room. Nick had brought his coffee cup along, but Burton, lacking a free hand, had to return to the kitchen for his. He brought it back, along with the coffee carafe, and topped off both his and Nick's cups before he sat down.  
  
Eat up, son, Burton said heartily. It's best hot.  
  
Nick didn't have to be told twice. He was ready to eat. Reading the article in the paper had not been enough to deter his appetite. Both men dug into their breakfasts with gusto. After just a couple bites of his omelette, Nick looked up at his father, and said with sincerity, It's good. Burton smiled, pleased.  
  
There was no more conversation until father and son were almost through, then Burton said, Nick, about what I told you last night, I, uh, I've decided I'm going to refuse the appointment to the bench...that way Lichtman won't have any leverage to use against you. And you, you can do what you want. Start this new firm, or...whatever.  
  
Nick looked up, startled by his father's words. You can't do that, Dad--, he started to protest, but Burton interrupted him.  
  
I can, Nicholas, and I'm going to. That will put an end to all this.  
  
But, Dad, Nick said with strong feeling, if you do that Lichtman wins.... No.... No, there's got to be a better way.  
  
Burton was silent.  
  
Just, just don't do anything yet, Nick continued, his mind working furiously. I'll, I'll tell Jake and the others that we have to hold off on the new firm, that...that we need to let things settle down a little bit after.... He swallowed. After what happened last night.... I'll let Caldwell and Lichtman think I've given in to their blackmail, and that I, I'll be staying at the firm. Then, uh, then we can start trying to dig up something on Lichtman to use as a bargaining chip. If the guy had no qualms about committing a felony by telling me about the government annex for Angel's Landing, you know, you *know* there must be other questionable activities in his past. We find out what they are, and then it's stalemate. He can't expose your, uh, your deal with Caldwell without risking exposure himself.  
  
Burton had looked thoughtful during Nick's spiel. He was pleased that Nick was able to look at things in such a clear light this morning. Considering the state his son had been in the night before, Burton hadn't been sure what to expect. But it was obvious that Nick had pulled himself together. His son had an enemy to fight now -- that little shit, Lichtman -- and he seemed more than game for battle. Burton was pleased, and decided to let Nick have his way for now. he said mildly, nodding. Okay, we'll play it your way, Nicholas.  
  
Nick said simply. He was a little surprised that Dad had let him win this argument so easily, but he wasn't about to question it.  
  
Burton reached to take another sip of his coffee, and as he did Nick said, Dad, about...about Mandy Gresler.... Burton looked up. Nick had his full attention. I-I think it might have been the drugs that killed her, not, uhm, not the fall. Bob mentioned the same thing to me last night, but I, well...I guess, I didn't really take it in properly. Mandy'd done a lot of coke yesterday.... Nick winced internally; he hated talking about drugs with his father. And, and, she may have died from an overdose. In fact, I, I think it's likely.  
  
Burton said. The thought had never occurred to him. That's, that's good to know, son. Thanks for telling me.  
  
Nick nodded. He reached for his own coffee cup, and kept his gaze focused on it for the next few minutes until his discomfort with the recent conversation had passed.  
  
It was almost 8:00, and Nick was getting ready to leave the table when his cell phone rang. He retrieved it from his pants' pocket, and flipped it open. he said.  
  
You had quite a busy night last night, didn't you, Nick?  
  
The voice sounded slightly familiar, but Nick couldn't place it. Who is this? he asked.  
  
Ah, guess you don't recognize my voice yet, huh? This is Jerry Fields.  
  
Nick started to frown, then glanced over at his father, who was watching with undisguised curiosity. Jerry Fields was his new probation officer. He supposed he'd been expecting this call.  
  
Nick said noncommittally.  
  
I expect to see you in my office first thing this morning, Nick. I need to hear about your adventures, and I think we'll need a urine sample too.... Mixing with a drugged-out chick like Mandy Gresler, Nick, that's not too smart. And here I thought you were a bright guy. Fields paused, but Nick ignored the jibe. Be in my office at 8:30, understand?  
  
Nick said in an even tone. I'll be there.  
  
All right, came the reply, and then the line went dead.  
  
As Nick flipped the phone closed he saw that Burton was looking at him expectantly. That, uh, that was my new probation officer. He wants to see me this morning.  
  
Burton nodded in a resigned fashion. He imagined there were going to be a lot of people clamoring to see Nick today: that detective Darger, Bob Colden, Caldwell.  
  
---+---  
  
Nick walked into the offices of Caldwell and Associates about 10:00AM. It had already been a full morning. First, the unpleasant interview with his probation officer, followed by another consultation with his attorney Bob Colden. He supposed the session with Fields had gone pretty well. The man seemed determined to get a rise out of him, but he hadn't risen to the bait. He had explained what had happened at his house last night with Mandy. When Jerry started asking questions about his involvement with Mandy and Dale and the strip club, Nick had kept his explanations to a minimum. He did have to admit to witnessing the crimes, but was noncommittal when Fields started probing about why he was there in the first place. He knew Jerry must have a suspicion about why he had been helping Dale, but he wasn't going to confirm that suspicion for him.  
  
Then there had been the meeting with Bob Colden. Bob had laid out some of the legal options they might pursue if, indeed, it turned out that Mandy had died as a result of the struggle. Although he repeated again, his suspicions about the death being drug related. And this time, Nick had told him he shared his suspicions. Bob had had Nick go over his story once more to be sure he hadn't forgotten anything in the emotionally-packed atmosphere of last night. Then he'd given Nick some instructions on what to do if Darger wanted to question him again. Bob had also mentioned that the police had searched Nick's house for drugs, and come up empty. That's a strong point in your favor, Nick, Bob had said encouragingly. Nick had supposed it was, and he also supposed that maybe, privately, Colden had been concerned about that. He couldn't know that Nick had been clean since his slip that week in January. It occurred to him to wonder if his father might have shared Colden's concern. He sighed at that thought. God! Life was so complicated.  
  
As Nick came into the lobby, he mentally prepared himself for the assorted stares and questions he was sure to receive. It was much like that Monday morning after his drug arrest. Everyone had stared at Burton Fallin's son -- the newly revealed drug addict. Nick shook his head at the memory, that had been a difficult morning to get through. He thought maybe this one would be a little easier.  
  
Sure enough, heads came up as he walked past the reception desk, and rounded the stairway to head for his office. Once inside, he gratefully shut the door, and went over his plan again. He was sure he'd be summoned to Caldwell's office as soon as word reached him that Nick had arrived. He was right, not two minutes after he'd sat down, the phone rang. It was Sheila, his Dad's old assistant. Sheila said, in an apologetic tone, I'm sorry, but Senator Caldwell would like to see you in his office right away.  
  
Okay, Sheila, Nick said. Thanks. I'll be right there.  
  
Walking into Caldwell's office without knocking, Nick was unsurprised to find Mitchell Lichtman there, as well. Mitchell wore that same self-satisfied, pursed-lip smile that Nick had come to know so well over their short acquaintance. God, I hate this guy! Nick found himself thinking. Little bastard! But, he quickly redirected his attention to the senator when Caldwell began to speak.   
  
the senator said in a disappointed, yet fatherly tone. He held up the front page of the Metro section. Nick, what is all this about? You can imagine my, my shock this morning when I opened up the paper, and saw this...this story.   
  
When Nick didn't reply, Caldwell continued. You were involved with a stripper? A known drug user? And she, she died in your house?... That looks bad, Nicholas, really bad. It's bad for business. When Nick continued to maintain his stubborn silence, Caldwell said, Don't you have anything to say for yourself?  
  
Nick glanced at Lichtman with distaste, then stared at Caldwell, as he said firmly. I know.   
  
Caldwell looked confused. You know? You know what?  
  
Nick continued, his voice rising slightly. I know about your deal with my father. And about Mitchell's threat to use that information against him.  
  
Caldwell began in a conciliatory voice.  
  
I know, Nick repeated again, and I...I've decided that I have no choice. He turned to Mitchell then. I'm not going to let you ruin my father's reputation, ruin all he's worked for.... Nick paused as if he couldn't go on. He spent a moment pretending to study the carpet, then brought his eyes back up to meet Mitchell's. So you win. He brought up his arms, and let them fall back limply to his side. You win.... You can take pride in the fact that your little blackmail scheme worked, Mitchell.  
  
Mitchell began silkily, blackmail is such an ugly word.  
  
Blackmail is what it is, Nick said heatedly, his dislike for Mitchell blazing from his eyes.  
  
Your father--, Mitchell began is own voice rising, but Caldwell cut him off.  
  
Boys, boys, Caldwell said. Let's not fight.  
  
Nick continued to look daggers at Mitchell, who regarded him calmly in return, only allowing the slightest little smile to show on his smug lips.  
  
The senator continued, Nick, I think what I hear you saying is that you've decided to stay here at the firm? Is that right?  
  
Nick gave a curt nod, his eyes still on Mitchell.  
  
Well, I'm very glad to hear that Nick, very glad, the senator said smoothly, all smiles. And I think...in time...we'll be able to put all this ugliness behind us, and make great strides here. Turn this place into something really special. You know, do credit to your father's legacy.  
  
Nick looked at Caldwell, and played his next card. Since I'm staying, I expect you to make good on that partnership you offered me.  
  
Well, Nick, Caldwell half-laughed (the boy had nerve, you had to give him credit for that), Really, I don't know. This mess in the paper--  
  
It's not going to be a problem, Nick said dismissively.  
  
How can you be sure of that, Nick? It seems like you've gotten yourself mixed up in something pretty unsavory here. Can you guarantee me that this isn't going to reflect badly on the firm?  
  
Nick remained silent. He couldn't really, of course, but his demand for the partnership was more of a ploy than anything.  
  
Caldwell began, maybe if you tell me exactly what happened with this girl--  
  
That's my personal business, Nick said abruptly.  
  
Your personal business, yes, but when it affects the firm....  
  
It's my business, and I'll deal with it. It needn't concern you, Nick said, arrogance oozing from every inch of his frame.  
  
Caldwell looked about to argue the point, but then gave in. Okay.... Okay, Nick, then I do expect you to deal with it. You'll need to perform some damage control--  
  
I'm aware of that, Nick interjected. It'll be taken care of it.  
  
Caldwell looked at Nick consideringly for a moment. Well, all right then.... I tell you what, Nick. If, as you say, this business with the girl turns out to be nothing then we'll revisit the matter of your partnership in, oh, say, a month. How's that sound?  
  
Nick forced himself to give Caldwell a curt nod of acceptance.  
  
Okay, good.... I guess we're done here. If there's anything I can do, though, Nick, to help out--  
  
No. No, there's not. At that, Nick shot one more scornful look at Mitchell, and then left the room.  
  
Caldwell and Lichtman were silent for a moment after Nick had left. Then Mitchell said, You really think he's going to play ball?  
  
Caldwell didn't answer immediately. I don't know, he said at last. I have the feeling there are a lot of things that go on behind that young man's eyes that people never see. But...for now...we'll just have to take him at his word, assume that he's abandoned the idea of starting his own firm, and that he'll stay here, to protect his father.  
  
As Nick emerged from Caldwell's office, a trace of a smile appeared on his face. They bought it. They believed he was going to stay here, and meekly generate money for the two of them! Well, they'd see. It was just a matter of time until he dug up something on Mitchell that would shut him up for good. Then they'd see how long Nicholas Fallin and his clients stayed at this firm.  
  
Nick ignored the stares that followed him as he made his way back to his office corridor. Now it was time to talk to Jake. This conversation he wasn't looking forward to. Jake was a good guy. He'd had no qualms about jumping ship with Nick when Nick suggested it. He'd turned in and done a lot of the work himself, locating the loft space on the south side, being Nick's go-between with the other associates. Yeah, Jake had really come through for him, and now he, Nick, had to put the kibosh on all their plans. And he had to make Jake and the others believe it was because of the mess with Mandy, that it was just a temporary postponement, nothing more. And, most importantly, he had to ensure that they'd keep quiet about the whole thing. Caldwell and Lichtman had to believe that Nick had abandoned all plans to strike out on his own.   
  
Walking up to Jake's door, Nick took a deep breath, schooled his expression, and then knocked.   
  
Come in, Jake called.  
  
Nick opened the door, and walked into the office slowly.  
  
Jake said with surprise, I, uh, I wasn't sure we'd see you here today.  
  
Hi, Jake, Nick said.  
  
Jake gave into his natural curiosity. What happened, man? I saw the story in the paper. Who was that girl? Was she a, a friend of yours?  
  
Nick said, with a shake of his head. No, I barely knew her.  
  
Jake looked confused, Well, but, I mean, she died in your house, Nick.  
  
I know.   
  
Well, how, how'd it happen?  
  
Nick ran a hand down his hair, and shook his head. He'd decided earlier in the morning that he would have to share at least part of the story with Jake. Under normal circumstances, he'd keep his own counsel, but, in this case, he felt he owed Jake something, and also explaining part of the story would help emphasize to Jake what an untenable situation Nick was in, why it wouldn't be a good idea to break away from the firm now.  
  
Look, Jake, Nick began at last. It's, it's complicated. You know how in the paper it said Mandy was wanted for questioning about the deaths at the strip club?  
  
  
  
Well, I...I, uh...I was there that day. I witnessed the whole thing.  
  
Jake's shock was evident.  
  
Yeah, I was there, and, and the next morning I went to the cops, and told them what I'd seen. Nick paused. He was finding this harder than he thought it would be. Mandy had taken off, and the cops have been after her ever since. On Monday, the cop in charge of the, of the investigation came by the office, and told me that Mandy would probably try to, to contact me. He said, said she'd come up empty everywhere else, and he figured her next stop would be me.   
  
Jake was listening with rapt attention to Nick's story. Nick paused to take a breath, then continued.  
  
He, uh, he was right. Mandy jumped in my car Monday night after our meeting at the clinic. She wanted money. I told her, told her I couldn't give her any, and that she should turn herself in. When I started to call the police, she took off.  
  
Jake said.  
  
Nick agreed. Then last night she showed up at my house. I let her in, and tried to keep her occupied while I called the cops to come pick her up, but she, she heard me on the phone. She tried to leave. I tried to stop her, and, uh, she, she fell to the floor. When I went to check on her she didn't have a pulse.  
  
Jake said again. He was stunned. Trust Nick to get involved in something like this, something so...colorful -- strippers, guns, people getting bashed in the head with fire extinguishers. Jesus! Nothing like that would ever happen to me, he thought, not to good ole, reliable, boring Jake Straka. He was almost envious of Nick in a weird sort of way. Nick's life certainly couldn't be characterized as boring, not by any stretch of the imagination.  
  
Nick was saying, I called for an ambulance, and then, then I called my lawyer, and that's about it.  
  
But, what'd she die of?  
  
Nick crossed his arms in front of himself. We don't know yet, but I'm thinking it was an overdose. Mandy had done a lot of coke that day, and I mean, a LOT of coke.  
  
Jake said, as he considered that. How, how do you know that?  
  
She told me, Nick answered simply. She told me before we went into the house.  
  
Jake was nodding his head slowly.  
  
Nick drew in a breath, and changed the subject. Anyway, Jake, I've been thinking about it, and I don't think we should go through with our plans right now. Not right now.  
  
Jake said. He'd still been caught up in the mental image of this stripper lying dead on Nick's floor.  
  
I don't think we should move forward with our plans for the new firm just now. The timing's not right. We need, we need to let all this settle down for a, a little while first.  
  
But, Nick, Jake protested. Everything's ready to go. We were going to sign the lease for the loft space today, you know that.  
  
I know...I know. Nick raked a hand through his hair again. And I'm really sorry about this Jake, but, I, I think it would be a mistake to start a new firm now...what with all the bad publicity, and...my, uh, Nick stopped to clear his throat, my uncertain situation. It's just not the right time. I'm sorry, Jake.  
  
Jake was shaking his head unhappily. You're sorry? You're sorry. He'd been really excited about starting this new practice, excited about them venturing out on their own. And now Nick had just squashed the whole thing...squashed it just like that. He supposed he was right, though. They had been counting on the Fallin name being a big draw for new clients, and at this moment, that name was a bit tarnished, and that was putting it lightly. Poor Burton, Jake found himself thinking. He wondered what the old man thought about all this? He found he couldn't resist asking the question, although he was sure that Nick would shoot him down -- leave without a word, or just stare at him. Those were his usual tactics. The guy was a god-damned master at ignoring questions he didn't want to answer. Made you feel like an idiot, more times than not, for even asking.  
  
Nick, what.... How is your dad handling all this?  
  
Nick looked away, and Jake thought, uh-huh, here we go, but then Nick looked Jake straight in the eye, and said with quiet sincerity, He's been great. Really great.  
  
Well...I'm...I'm glad to hear that Nick. That's...that's good. I know if it was my dad--, but Nick didn't let him finish.  
  
Nick said abruptly. Look, Jake, I've got to go. Can you let the others know we need to meet tonight? He started to suggest his house as a meeting place, and then realized that was out. Can we meet at your apartment, say at 8:00? I think it's only right that I should tell Lisa, and Henry, and the rest, all this in person. Can you spread the word? Thanks. Without even waiting for Jake's assent, Nick turned, and headed out the door.  
  
Now that's more like it, Jake found himself thinking amusedly -- the patented Nick Fallin Do-this, I'm-Gone quick exit. He laughed softly to himself, and then got up from behind his desk. He'd better start passing the word about the meeting tonight. The guys were not going to be pleased, but what could you do? Nick was right. They should hold off for now.  
  
---+---  
  
It was 2:40, and Nick was walking into Legal Services of Pittsburgh for the first time that day. He really hadn't wanted to come over here at all, would rather have waited till Monday to face another roomful of curious faces, but he had two appointments this afternoon, and dead stripper, or no, he didn't like to cancel appointments unless he had to. It wasn't professional. So, he had decided to come on over, and face the music.   
  
The first person he saw as he came through the elevator doors was Barbara. She saw him immediately, and a look of concern descended on her face. She walked right up to him, and said kindly, You okay, Nick?   
  
he replied, nodding, while simultaneously turning his head away, averting his gaze. Yeah, I'm, I'm fine.  
  
Well, if there's anything I can do...you just let me know.  
  
Thanks, Barbara. Nick knew she was sincere in her offer. She was that kind of person. And, too, he'd helped keep her son Russell from serving serious time for the death of that teenage football player from that bad meth-amphetamine a few months ago, so he knew that Barbara probably felt she owed him something.  
  
Nick started to head for the conference room. His first appointment was at 3:00, and he needed to read up on the case history first. But before he could make it to the door, Alvin emerged from his office. Catching sight of Nick, he called out, Nick? Got a minute?  
  
Here we go, Nick thought to himself. Christ, he could really do without Alvin's I wanta be your friend routine right now, but he gritted his teeth, and headed for Alvin's office anyway.  
  
Alvin was waiting for him at the door, and closed it behind him after he'd entered. Nick hadn't planned to sit down (he didn't plan on staying that long), but Alvin motioned him to a seat, and Nick decided it wasn't worth arguing about, so he sat down. Alvin returned to his own place behind his desk.  
  
Alvin began slowly. I don't know what to say... . Is there anything I can do? You wanta talk about it?  
  
Nick answered.  
  
Are you sure? Is there anything you want to tell me?... Anything you *need* to tell me, Nick? I mean, as your sponsor, ya know.  
  
Keep it to monosyllables, and he'll let you out all the quicker, Nick thought.  
  
Well, okay, but ya know if you feel you need someone to talk to, I'm always here. I want to be there for you, Nick. The way somebody was there once for me. Ya understand?  
  
Yeah, sure, Nick said, rising from his chair, and glancing at his watch. Thanks. Is that all?  
  
Alvin nodded in defeat, and Nick walked out the door without a backward glance.  
  
---+---  
  
Nick's last appointment had just walked out the door of the conference room. Nick felt sorry for the girl. Sixteen, and she was seeking to be emancipated because her mother was a strung-out prostitute, and her father was a drunk that liked to get a little too friendly with his daughter when he had one too many.   
  
And I think I have problems, Nick found himself thinking ruefully. You don't know how good you've got it, Nick. You really don't. He shook his head, and watched the teenager as she waited for the elevator. Poor kid. She looked as miserable as he had felt last night.  
  
Nick was turning back to the conference room to gather up his things, when he saw Lulu approaching out of the corner of his eye. Oh, great, another person he really didn't want to see today, the newly minted, Mrs. Lulu Olsen. He reentered the conference room, and busied himself with putting the teenager's emancipation papers back in his briefcase. Sure enough, not three seconds later, Lulu walked in the room, shutting the door behind her.   
  
she said with feeling. Are, are you okay? Who was that girl in the paper? I, I didn't know you were seeing a, a stripper. Who was she?  
  
Nick struggled to hold on to his temper. This woman stomps all over his heart, and then thinks she has the right to ask him questions? Well, she didn't.... But, still...he couldn't bring himself to ignore her completely, or to be rude to her either. Despite his own best intentions, he still cared for her a lot. He was afraid he would for a long time to come.  
  
He exhaled a long, careful breath, and said, It wasn't like that, Lulu. She was just, just an acquaintance. I, uh, I barely knew her. He tried to step around Lulu to get to the door, but she moved to block him.  
  
Then who was she? What was she doing in your house?... Nick, how did that woman *die* in your house? Her tone on that last question could only be characterized as demanding.  
  
Nick fought to remain patient. It's a long story, and, I, I don't mean to be rude, but it's really none of your business.  
  
None of my business.... Lulu seemed stunned by the remark. But, Nick--  
  
Look...I'm sorry, Lulu, but it's, it really is none of your business, and I, uh, I have to be somewhere. So, if you'll excuse me. This time, Nick succeeded in making his way past Lulu to the door.   
  
He breathed a sigh of relief as he headed for the elevator. Now if he could just make it out of here before any other well-intentioned person collared him. Once at the elevator, he glanced back, and saw that Lulu was still standing, motionless, in the conference room doorway. What he couldn't see was the single tear making it's way down Lulu's cheek.  
  
---+---  
  
It was Sunday morning, and Nick was back in his own house. The forensics team had finished up some time yesterday. Nick had been glad to find that the place had been left in reasonably good order, not like the last time the cops had had free rein in his home. Of course, that was back before he'd bought this house, back when he was still living in that high-rise apartment downtown. After his drug bust, after the cops had gotten through with his place it had been a mess! He knew, given the circumstances of the party, it had been pretty bad to start with, but it was obvious the cops had not made any attempt to be careful with his property. This time it looked like they had.  
  
Nick sank down on the couch, and thought back over the last couple days. Things weren't as bad as they could be. The cops had found Mandy's gun in her purse (he couldn't believe she hadn't dumped it), and Ballistics had confirmed that it was the gun that had fired the shot that killed Lenny. So he was in the clear there. His fingerprints hadn't been on the fire extinguisher that Lenny had used to kill Dale, so he'd always been okay on that count. Things had gone all right at the office too. He'd convinced Caldwell and Mitchell (the slime) that he was going to play along, be a good boy.  
  
Nick sighed as he thought of the meeting Friday night with Jake and Lisa Jacoby, and the rest of the F&A associates who had been willing to strike out on their own with him. That had not gone as smoothly as he would have liked, but in the end he'd convinced them his way was best. He knew, though, that if it hadn't been for the fact that his name was and he still held all his dad's old clients, a couple of them would have been for going it without him. Lisa, especially, had argued hard against the delay. He still felt somewhat guilty about concealing the real reason he couldn't leave C&A right now, but he knew he'd get over it. He smiled cynically to himself at that thought. Yeah, he was usually very good at forgiving himself for the rotten things he had to do as part of conducting business. Of course, this time, it wasn't really business. He'd lied to protect his father. But, he knew he could forgive himself for that too. It wouldn't be a problem.  
  
Nick was interrupted from his musing by the insistent ringing of the telephone. He leaned forward, and grabbed the cordless phone off the coffee table.   
  
  
  
Nick, it's Bob Colden. Great news! My source in the Coroner's office just called. The autopsy report is back on Mandy Gresler. It was an overdose, Nick. No question about it. Apparently she had enough coke in her system to kill a horse.  
  
Nick was speechless. He'd convinced himself that this had to be the case, but still to actually hear it put in words.... It was like a huge weight being lifted off his chest...off his soul. His sense of relief was enormous. It was...it was completely overwhelming.  
  
Nick, you there?  
  
Nick drew in a deep breath, and said, Yeah. Yeah, Bob, I'm here. That's, uh...yeah, thanks. Thanks for telling me. Thank you.  
  
You're welcome.... I think you're in the clear all the way around now, Nick. I don't believe Darger is going to bring any charges against you. I think he'll even keep mum about those probation violations he was holding over your head. He can be a pretty decent guy when he wants to be. I think he'll decide now he wants to be.... So, I think you're going to be free to put this whole thing behind you...get on with your life. How's that sound?  
  
Nick let out a sigh. That sounds just great, Bob. Thank you. Really. Thank you.  
  
You're welcome, Nick, Bob said warmly. Take care.  
  
You too, Bob. Thanks.  
  
Sure. Bye, Nick.  
  
  
  
Nick put the phone back down on the table. Then stood up, and stared into space for a moment. God, this latest nightmare is finally over, he thought. Thank God!   
  
Without conscious thought, he found himself staring at the spot on the carpet where Mandy had lain only three short nights ago. Yes, the nightmare was over for him, but Mandy...Mandy was dead. There'd be no more dreams, or nightmares, for Mandy. For her, everything had come to an end. Everything.... Nick knew now that her death had had nothing to do with his actions, but still.... She had died right here, died virtually in his arms. And that was something he wasn't ever going to be able to forget. Not ever.  
  
After another moment of quiet reflection, Nick shook himself out of his melancholy mood. He had to share the news with Dad. He knew this had been a nightmare for him too. Picking up the phone, he started to dial his father's number, but then stopped. No, not by phone, he thought to himself, not this time.  
  
Heading into the foyer, Nick picked up his keys from the small table by the stairs, and then walked out the front door. He was going to tell his dad the news, but he was going to do it in person. He was going to be there to share his relief and joy. He owed that to his dad...and himself.   



	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Juggling Act (3/3)  
**Date Written:** 6/13/02  
**Author: **JanetD  
**Rating:** PG (language)  
**Summary:** This story picks up where The Beginning left off. It contains spoilers for The Beginning and Lawyers, Guns, and Money.  
**Author's Notes: **  
**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction. The characters in this story are borrowed from the TV show "The Guardian". No money is being made from this story. Any resemblance of a character in this story to any real person living or dead is purely coincidental. Likewise, any resemblance between an organization depicted in this story and any such actual organization is purely coincidental.  
  
Monday, May 27th  
  
On Monday morning, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette printed a story listing the cause of Mandy Gresler's death as an overdose. It repeated the information from Saturday's paper that ballistic tests had revealed that Mandy's gun was the one used in the killing of Lenny Getgin at the Girls! Girls! Girls! strip club. The article stated that the police had now officially closed the investigation of the double homicide at the downtown club.  
  
----+----  
  
Nick Fallin had his head bent over a brief when a knock came at his office door. he called, and Jake Straka stuck his head inside.  
  
Nick! Hi. I saw the story in the paper this morning. So you're in the clear on that girl's death. That's great. I bet you're relieved, huh?  
  
Nick, who had continued working, gave Jake a curt nod without looking up. Jake opened the door wider, and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.  
  
So, Nick, Jake asked eagerly, when, uh, when do you think we can move forward with our plans for the new firm?  
  
Nick let out an exasperated sigh. He was afraid this was going to come up today.   
  
I don't know, Jake. It's, it's too soon to say right now. Maybe in a few weeks' time. We'll just have to wait and see.  
  
Jake looked unhappy at this announcement, but he didn't try too hard to change Nick's mind. He knew how stubborn he could be. He only said, Well, okay, just so you know, if we wait too long I think Lisa and a couple of the others might decide to jump ship on their own. Lisa's really not happy here.   
  
Not once having lifted his head from his work, Nick nodded. I know.  
  
Jake nodded in turn. Okay, well, I'll, uh, I'll see you later.  
  
Nick replied, and Jake walked out the door.  
  
After Jake left, Nick finally looked up. He leaned back in his chair for a moment, then dropped his pen, and rose from his desk. As he stood up, he ran one hand swiftly down the back of his head, and frowned. Walking over to the window, Nick stared down at the city scene below him, and contemplated recent events. He had been very relieved when he'd gotten word that the police had marked the incident at the strip club as . And it looked like his lawyer had been right, that Detective Darger wasn't going to report him for the probation violations Darger had said he'd committed that day at the club. So, Nick felt free to turn his entire attention to getting rid of Caldwell and Lichtman, to wrestling back control of the firm that his father had founded more than thirty years before. It wasn't right that the business his dad had worked so hard to create should go into decline because of the incompetent leadership of a man like Nathan Caldwell.   
  
More importantly, there was a debt to settle with Mitchell Lichtman, and to a lesser extent, Caldwell. Lichtman had threatened to make public what he knew about Burton's deal with the senator to keep Nick out of prison. He had threatened to expose his dad if he, Nick, left the firm, taking his clients with him. Nick hadn't understood Mitchell's threat at first, hadn't known what it was that Mitchell had to hang over his father's head. It wasn't until Burton had showed up at Nick's house last Thursday night -- showed up at his house while Mandy lay dead on his living room floor -- that he learned about that infamous deal. Then the enormity of what his dad had done for him had hit Nick, had hit him hard.   
  
While Nick had waited for the ambulance to arrive for Mandy, he'd felt a kaleidoscope of emotions pass swiftly through him: shame for his actions that had started the whole mess in the first place, shock that his dad would arrange a quid-pro-quo with the senator to save him from doing time, gratitude to his father for that, and love -- the love for his dad that he sometimes tried to deny within himself. He'd known in that moment that he had to tell his father all this, that he loved him, and that he was sorry for all the crap he'd put him through, all the mistakes he'd made. With Mandy lying dead in the other room, he wasn't sure when he might get a chance to tell his dad what he felt he had to tell him, so he had picked up the phone, and left a message on his father's answering machine. Nick felt his eyes growing wet as he recalled that phone call. It had been one of the hardest calls he'd ever had to make, but he didn't regret it, not in the least.  
  
He turned his thoughts away from that emotion-laden memory and to his plans for obtaining some sort of damaging information to use against that shit Mitchell. His father had arranged for a local P.I., Manny Frieden, to come to the house that night to meet with Nick and Burton. They planned to have Manny look into the backgrounds of both Mitchell and Caldwell. At the same time, Nick planned to get in touch with a friend from college who now worked in the governor's office. Nick was looking for information on Caldwell's voting record in the state Senate, and he figured Mark Sweeney was the one who could tell him the best way to get his hands on that kind of thing. In fact, he ought to try to call Mark right now.  
  
Moving back to his desk, Nick pulled out the number for Mark's office that he had tracked down earlier in the day. He hadn't wanted to ask his assistant to look up the number, as he didn't want any word of his phone call getting back to anyone at the firm, so he'd done it himself.   
  
Nick dialed the phone, and waited through four rings for someone to answer. It was Mark's secretary. Nick identified himself, and waited while the secretary found out if Mark could speak with him. In a minute, Mark's voice came on the line.  
  
Nick, wow, this is a surprise! How've you been?  
  
Great, Mark, great. Thanks for asking.  
  
How long's it been? Let me see, I think the last time I saw you was when you were still working in New York for...don't tell me...for Swann & Cranston, right?  
  
Yeah, that's right. How are you, Mark?  
  
Oh, fine. Busy as always. So, what can I do for you, Nick? I'm sure this isn't just a social call.  
  
Nick smiled. No, no it's not, Mark. I need your advice on something...something of a sensitive nature. I was wondering if I could call you at home tonight, and discuss it?  
  
Sure, sure. Got a pen? My number is 335-728-0611. Call any time after 7:00.  
  
Great, Mark. Thanks.  
  
No problem. Have to admit though, I'll be wondering all afternoon what kind of thing Mr. Nick I'll-handle-it-myself' Fallin could be wanting to consult me on. Mark laughed.  
  
Nick smiled again. Mark had been one of his best friends at Princeton, and he was used to his ribbing.  
  
I'll talk to you tonight, Mark.  
  
Okay, Nick. Talk to you then.  
  
Nick hung up the phone slowly, stared into space for a moment, then turned back to the brief on his desk. He had a lot of work to get done today, might as well get to it.  
  
----+----  
  
Burton and Nick were in Burton's living room awaiting the arrival of private investigator Manny Frieden. They'd agreed on what they wanted to tell Manny ahead of time, and had also agreed that Nick would be the one to do most of the talking. They had told Manny 7:30, and it was almost that now. In another moment or two, the doorbell rang. Burton got up to answer it, and very shortly was showing Manny into the living room. Manny was a man in his mid to late fifties. It was obvious he'd been around the block a few times, but still had the appearance of a guy you wouldn't want to mess with. He was about six feet tall, with broad shoulders, and a lot of gray showing in his dark hair. Burton had known Manny for more years than he cared to count. He'd used his services on those occasions that someone or something had to be investigated in connection with a case at the firm. Burton had always found Manny to be extremely reliable. He was discreet, a fast worker, and he got results. Burton knew that he could be trusted with this latest assignment, as well.   
  
Burton made the introductions, and Nick invited Manny to take a seat. Burton sat down, as well. Nick quickly explained to Manny that what they wanted was a thorough background investigation of Mitchell Lichtman and Nathan Caldwell.  
  
We're interested in anything in their backgrounds that might be considered questionable, any information that might be damaging if it was made public. You know the kind of thing I mean.  
  
Manny was nodding his understanding. He asked a few questions about Caldwell and Lichtman, and got some guidelines from Nick on how much time and money the Fallins were willing to spend on the investigation. When Manny felt everything was clear to him and his two clients, he rose to go. As he did, Nick added with a small smile, My father says you're one of the best, Manny. I know we can count on you to be thorough and discreet.  
  
Sure thing, Mr. Fallin, and let me just say that your dad is one of the best too. He's always been square with me, always paid on time, never quibbled over a bill. Directing a smile Burton's way, Manny concluded, You learn to appreciate that in my line of work.   
  
Nick said, Well, we appreciate your looking into this for us, Manny.   
  
Manny nodded again, and the two Fallins walked him to the door. The men made their goodbyes. Right before leaving the house, Manny added, You'll be hearing from me.  
  
As father and son turned away from the door, Nick glanced at his watch. It was about 7:50. he asked, is it okay if I use the phone to call Mark Sweeney in Harrisburg? He said to call after 7:00, and it's almost 8:00 now.  
  
Sure, son. Be my guest.  
  
Nick nodded, said a quick, thanks', and headed for his father's study. Digging Mark's home number out of his inside vest pocket, he quickly dialed the phone. Mark answered on the second ring.  
  
  
  
Mark, it's Nick.  
  
Hi Nick. So, what's with all the cloak and dagger stuff?  
  
Well, cloak and dagger' may be a little extreme, but I do need your help, Mark. What can you tell me about former Senator Nathan Caldwell and his chief of staff, Mitchell Lichtman?  
  
Caldwell and Lichtman, huh? They're quite a pair. What's your interest in those two?  
  
It, it's a long story, Mark.... What can you tell me?  
  
Mark sighed. Well, just between you and me, Lichtman is a real snake in the grass. I wouldn't trust him farther than I could throw him. He has a reputation for getting things done, though. If you're willing to meet his price.  
  
His price? Are you talking about bribes?  
  
No. Nothing that overt. I mean the whole you scratch my back; I'll scratch yours' thing. Somehow, Lichtman always seemed to come out with the bigger end of the stick on those deals. He's smart and devious, and that's a powerful combination.  
  
What about Caldwell?  
  
Caldwell...Caldwell seems like a decent guy. Very pleasant, knows his issues, but the standing joke in the statehouse the last couple years was that he was pretty much being led around by the nose by Lichtman. I don't know how much truth there was to it, but that's what was going around.  
  
Nick paused to consider this, then said, Look Mark, I need information on Caldwell's voting record, specifically those votes where he, he switched sides at the last minute, or cast a deciding vote on a close measure, that kind of thing. How would I go about getting that kind of information?  
  
Hmmm, well, I'm afraid it would take a layman like yourself a good while to wade through all the Senate records, and collect something like that, Nick.... This is important, huh?  
  
Very important, Nick said with conviction.  
  
Well, tell you what I'll do. I'll put my assistant Terri on it. She can probably come up with the information you need in two or three days. And she can be relied on to keep it quiet. She's not a blabber, that girl.  
  
That would be great, Mark. I really appreciate this. I owe you one.  
  
No problem. I'll give you a call when Terri has finished her research.  
  
Terrific. Thanks. Here, let me give you my numbers. Nick recited his home and cell phone numbers for Mark, but reminded him not to get into any specifics if he reached him on his cell.  
  
Mark took down the numbers, and then joked, Any other problems I can solve for you, Mr. Fallin?  
  
Nick smiled into the phone. Not tonight, no. Thanks again, Mark.  
  
Welcome. I'll talk to you in a few days.  
  
Right. Bye, Mark.  
  
Bye, Nick.  
  
Nick was pleased. He hadn't thought that Mark would offer to have someone do this research for him, but it would certainly be quicker, and he had confidence in Mark's evaluation of his assistant's ability to keep the information confidential. Mark liked to kid around, but he was all business when it came to his work, Nick knew that.  
  
Walking back into the living room, Nick found his dad with a cigarette in one hand, and a Scotch in the other. He quickly told him what Mark Sweeney had said. Burton nodded, well satisfied. That's great news, son. It's good to have friends in the right places, huh?  
  
Nick agreed, suppressing a frown. He couldn't help but think of his father's deal with Caldwell when Burton made that last observation. Nick glanced around the room, and then said, Uh, guess I'll get going now, Dad.   
  
Burton placed his drink on the coffee table, and stood up. he agreed, and followed Nick into the foyer.  
  
Nick opened the front door, then turned to his father, and said, Well, see you later.  
  
Right. See you, son, Burton replied, reaching out to give Nick a quick pat on the arm.  
  
Nick nodded, and walked out of the house, and to his car.  
  
Burton stood in the doorway, and watched Nick drive out of sight.  
  
----+----  
  
Wednesday, May 29th  
  
It was Wednesday afternoon, and Nick had just stepped back into his office when the phone rang. Reaching across his desk to pick up the receiver, he heard the operator say, Mr. Fallin, your father is on the line. Should I put him through?   
  
Nick said, Yes, thank you. When he heard the click' that indicated the call had been transferred, he said,   
  
Hi, son. How ya doing?  
  
  
  
Good, good. Look, Nick I was, uh, I was wondering if you could stop by the house tonight.... There's something I'd like to talk to you about.  
  
Okay. I'm having dinner with a client, but I, I could drop by after that. It might be 9:30 or later.  
  
That's fine. I'll see you then, son.  
  
Nick was nodding. Bye, Dad.  
  
  
  
As Nick hung up the phone, he wondered what it was that his father wanted to discuss. He thought it was probably too soon for Frieden to have finished his report, and he figured his father would have given him some indication of this, if that was the case. Probably just something else to do with Caldwell and Lichtman, he thought, and dismissed it from his mind. He had a hell of a lot of work to do, and would find out what his father wanted tonight.  
  
----+----  
  
Nick arrived at his father's house about 9:00. As he pulled into the circular drive it occurred to him that he hadn't yet heard back from Mark Sweeney. Of course, Mark had said two or three days, and this was only the second day. So he was probably jumping the gun there. Nick parked the BMW, walked up to the front porch, and rang the bell. Not forty seconds had elapsed before his dad was opening the door, and ushering him in. Burton was dressed in a light blue polo shirt and dark blue slacks.  
  
Nick! Thanks for coming, son. Can I get you something to drink? A Coke, or something?  
  
No, I'm fine, thanks.  
  
Burton led the way from the foyer into the living room. How, uh, how'd your dinner go?  
  
Fine. I met with Sam Walken to discuss a new bond offering for his company. He seemed pleased with my proposal.  
  
Well, good. That's good.  
  
The two men had reached the living room, and Burton gestured for Nick to take a seat. He did, on the couch that set under the windows. Burton sat down in an upholstered chair that was catty-cornered to the couch. He had had a cigarette in his hand when Nick arrived, and now he stubbed it out in an ashtray that set on the coffee table. Nick looked at his father expectantly. After a moment, Burton cleared his throat, put a hand to his mustache, and then began.  
  
Nick, I, uh, I've decided to turn down the appointment to the bench. I called Congressman Walters today, and gave him the news.  
  
Nick was taken aback by this announcement, and sat forward abruptly. What? Why? Why now? I thought...I thought we agreed that you wouldn't do anything like that until we'd had a chance to, to get some dirt on Lichtman.  
  
I know, son.... I know that's what we said, but this...this isn't about that.  
  
Nick looked puzzled. What do you mean? What's it about then?  
  
Burton let out a heavy sigh, smoothing a hand across the sparse hair on top his head. It's complicated, Nicholas. When Rick Stanton died, I...ya know, I did a, a lot of thinking about what I'd accomplished in my life...what I'd given to my profession...what I, what I still had left to give.... When I learned that Rick had suggested me to Congressman Walters, I...well, I was flattered, son, and I felt...uhm, I guess excited' would be the right word. I felt excited about something for the first time in a long time, Nicholas. It would be a challenge, being a judge.... I never thought I had any kind of serious chance at it, you understand.... I was sure there had to be a lot of people in the running more qualified than I was. Then when, uh, I found out I'd made the short list, well...I admit it was a boost to my ego, son. To think that they'd want somebody like me for the federal bench. It, uhm, it felt great. Burton paused, but Nick didn't say anything.   
  
After a moment Burton continued. Then this business with Caldwell came up, and you, you know the rest.... After everything that's happened in the last few weeks, Nick, I've...uhm...I've done some hard thinking. And I've decided that...if someone is going to sit in judgment on other people...that person, that person needs to be above reproach himself. Nick looked like he was about to say something, but Burton didn't give him a chance. I know that may not be completely realistic, son. You and I both know there are judges on the bench who shouldn't be there, but still...that's how I feel about it, Nicholas.... Ya know, I've always prided myself on my sense of ethics...on how I've conducted myself in business and, and in my private life. But I realized...that when push came to shove, I was ready to set those ethics aside...to do, do what I needed to do to protect you, son. Nick's expression grew bleak, and he hung his head in consternation. Oh, I know at the time I tried to, uhm, to rationalize it...tried to tell myself that the D.A. wasn't playing fair...that he was, just trying to stick it to you because of who you were...but that doesn't change things, Nick. That doesn't change what I did...and what I did...what I did was make a deal with Caldwell -- a partnership with the firm, in exchange for his exerting his influence with the D.A.. That's what I did, son, and I don't think a man who would do that...well, I don't think a man like that belongs on the bench.  
  
Nick didn't know what to say. He could tell that his father had made up his mind, but still he had to try to dissuade him. I, I think you're making a mistake, Dad. Just because you...you compromised your ethics once doesn't mean you couldn't be a-a worthy judge. Everyone, probably everyone has to make compromises like that sometimes in, in their lives.... You'd make a great judge. You shouldn't give that up because of this.  
  
Burton was resolute. I've made up my mind, son. I've already told Congressman Walters, and I'll make my public announcement tomorrow. That will be the end of it. They can find someone else to fill Rick's seat. It's not gonna be me.  
  
Nick sighed in frustration, then compressed his lips, and nodded his head in defeat. His father had his mind made up, and it was clear that nothing he said was going to change that.  
  
----+----  
  
Thursday, May 30th  
  
Nick was in his car on the way back from a business lunch when his cell phone rang. He raised himself up in his seat just enough to allow him to snake his right hand down into his pants pocket, and retrieve the phone. Flipping it open, he said,   
  
Nick, it's Mark. Well, I've got that information you wanted. I think you're going to find it very interesting.  
  
  
  
Uh-huh. I can fax it to you at home tonight, then you can call me to discuss it if you want.  
  
Yeah. That would be great, Mark. Thanks. I probably won't be home until 9:00. Is that okay?  
  
Sure, sure. Talk to you then.  
  
Okay. Bye.  
  
Bye, Nick.  
  
Nick hung up the phone, and set it on the seat next to him. So, Mark had found something interesting? Hmmm. He couldn't wait to find out what it was.  
  
----+----  
  
Nick walked through his front door about 9:10. He made a beeline for his study, and found the info from Mark already sitting on the fax machine. He scanned down it quickly. Mark's assistant Terri had listed twenty different occasions where Caldwell had switched sides on important votes at the last minute. Two immediately caught Nick's eye. They both involved measures that affected Pennsylvania businessman Philip Martindale. One was a tax incentive bill that had been tailor-made to support a new business park that Martindale was building in Philadelphia. The other was a land-use measure that affected another Martindale development. Terri had indicated that Caldwell had changed his position on these two bills in the last vote. Both bills had passed by only one or two votes.  
  
After Nick had read through the document a second time, he picked up the phone and called Mark. Mark provided him with a little more background on the information in the document, and Nick asked some questions. The two men spent about twenty minutes discussing the fax. Then Nick thanked Mark again, and promised to stay in closer touch. As soon as he had hung up the phone with Mark, he dialed Burton.  
  
Dad, it's me.... Yeah. Mark came through. He faxed me the info tonight, and it's very interesting. I'd like to get Manny started looking into it right away.... Okay. I'll try him now, and see if I can set up a meeting for tomorrow night.... Yeah, I'll let you know. Bye, Dad.  
  
Nick dialed Manny's cell phone, and was pleased when he got through.  
  
Manny, this is Nick Fallin.  
  
Mr. Fallin, I was going to call you tomorrow. I've got that report you wanted. You might find something useful in it. The younger of the two gentlemen has a few skeletons in his closet.  
  
Great, Manny. Look I have some new information that I'd like you to look into. Can you meet me at my father's house tomorrow night? Say 9:00?  
  
Sure, Mr. Fallin, no problem. I'll see you there.  
  
Thanks, Manny.  
  
----+----  
  
Friday, May 31st  
  
Manny Frieden rang Burton's doorbell at two minutes before 9:00. Nick had arrived twenty minutes before, and had shown the fax of Caldwell's votes to his father. Burton had found it very interesting, and agreed with Nick that it was definitely something that should be given more scrutiny.  
  
Burton let Manny in, and led the way to the living room once more. Nick stood up when Manny entered the room, and shook his hand. All three men sat down, and Manny began his report.  
  
Well, I'm afraid that I wasn't able to come up with much concrete information on Caldwell in terms of questionable activities'. Some hints, but not much that's concrete. But...Lichtman is another story. Mr. Lichtman has been a busy boy.  
  
Manny flipped a page on the report he held in his hand. In 92, Lichtman was accused of date rape by a college student at Yale. She claimed that Lichtman had forced her to have sex with him against her will, but she later dropped the charges. So nothing came of it.   
  
You have the girl's name? Burton asked.  
  
When Burton didn't say anything else, Manny continued. Then in 98 Lichtman was suspected in a hit-and-run in Harrisburg, but he was never charged.  
  
A hit-and-run? Nick asked.  
  
Manny said, consulting his notes. A ten year old girl was hit by a car at twilight while crossing the street. A witness identified the car as being a white Lexus, with 42' as the last two digits of the license plate. Unfortunately, the witness didn't come forward until a few days later, and by that time there was no evidence of the accident visible on Lichtman's car. Lichtman had had the Lexus in the body shop, claiming he was having damage repaired from a previous accident. Since the cops did have an earlier accident report on file, and since the damage reported by the body shop was consistent with that, they couldn't make a case against Lichtman.... Plus, the kid recovered, so there wasn't the public outcry to find the guy responsible that might otherwise have occurred in a case like that.  
  
Burton said. What else?  
  
Well, from talking to my friends at the capital it sounds like Lichtman had quite a reputation as a wheeler-dealer, a real sharpie. Somebody you didn't want to cross lightly. From the stories I hear, he could be very vindictive. Not a guy who was willing to just kiss and make up, no sir. Manny glanced down at the paper again. And they tell me that by the end of Caldwell's last term, Lichtman seemed to pretty much be running the show. Some people went so far as to refer to Caldwell as Lichtman's lap dog'.  
  
When neither man commented, Manny turned a page on the report. As for Caldwell...there's not much there. No arrest record. Happily married for nearly thirty years. Couple a kids. No evidence of extramarital affairs. Fairly conservative voting record in the Senate. No political scandals. Although I did hear some talk that Caldwell was occasionally open to `persuasion` on various issues, but there was nothing in black and white.  
  
Burton and Nick nodded as Manny finished his summary. He handed each man a copy of his eight page report. The two Fallins glanced over it while Manny waited patiently. At last, Nick said, This is good work, Manny. Thank you. He reached over to the coffee table, and picked up a copy of the fax he had gotten the night before. Here's something else we'd like you to look into. Nick handed the sheets of paper to Manny. This is a list of important measures in the Senate where Caldwell cast one of the deciding votes, occasions where he flip-flopped from his original position. We'd like you to investigate the circumstances surrounding these votes. I, uh, I probably don't have to spell it out for you, but we'd like you to, to look for evidence that there were any payoffs involved.  
  
Manny was nodding. Okay, but I have to tell you when it comes to the financial side of things, that's a little out of my arena. I may have to bring in another guy -- Ron Wallis -- he's a real whiz with that stuff, and has the right connections. You can trust him. I've worked with him for about ten years, and he's never let me down yet.  
  
Nick glanced at Burton, and when his father indicated his assent, Nick said to Manny, All right. Bring him in if it's necessary. We're very interested in finding out if Caldwell or Lichtman were taking any kind of bribes. That information could be critical to us.  
  
Well, we'll do our best, Mr. Fallin. If there's something there, Ron or I will find it.  
  
Manny stood up, and Nick and Burton saw him to the door.  
  
What do you think? Nick asked his father after Manny had left.  
  
Burton brought a hand up to his mustache. Well, it's possible we could threaten Mitchell with making the rape accusation public. Talk to the girl...see if she's willing to come forward. The statute of limitation has expired as far as any actual charges are concerned, though. Burton ran a hand across the top of his head. Of course, this girl has probably put the whole thing behind her, and won't want to dredge it all up again.... As far as the hit-and-run goes, I, uh, I don't know.... If Mitchell did do it, and that seems likely, he's going to feel some guilt about that, and probably, probably in the back of his mind he still has some concern about being held accountable for it. It's possible we might be able to use that as leverage.... But...I think our, our best shot is these votes of Caldwell's. If Caldwell was taking payoffs, you can guarantee that that little shit Lichtman was getting his share.  
  
Yeah, I think you're right.  
  
After a little more discussion of what they'd learned from Manny Frieden, Nick took his leave.  
  
----+----  
  
Monday, June 3rd  
  
Nick was back at Legal Services of Pittsburgh for the first time in more than a week. He had called Alvin on the previous Monday, and told him there were a lot of things going on at the firm, what with the change-over to Caldwell and Associates, and he needed to take a break from his community service at the clinic. Alvin hadn't given him any grief, had just said Nick should call, and let him know when he was ready to come back.  
  
As Nick came off the elevator he took a quick look around. Nobody he knew well was in sight. He glanced across at James' office, and thought how weird it would be not to have James around any more. He was a good guy, and it was a shame that he'd left the way he did, but Nick couldn't really blame him.   
  
Walking over to Alvin's office, Nick knocked on the closed door.   
  
Come in, Alvin called out from behind his desk. As Nick entered, he added, Nick, hi, come on in. Have a seat.  
  
Nick sat down.  
  
Alvin continued, how are things going over at Caldwell & Associates? You getting everything straightened out?  
  
Yeah. It's fine.  
  
Well, good. Must be strange for you though, huh? Suppose it was Fallin & Associates the whole time you were growing up. Must be weird to see a new name on the door.  
  
Nick just nodded.  
  
I have to say, I was surprised to hear that your dad had declined the appointment to the federal bench.  
  
Nick glanced away. Yeah, well....  
  
What's he gonna do now?  
  
Nick looked back at Alvin, his expression noncommittal. I don't know. I don't think he's sure yet. He decided to change the subject. So, have you got any cases for me?  
  
Oh, yeah. Lulu has the files. She can fill you in. I think she's in her office.  
  
Nick got up. Okay. Thanks. See you later, Alvin.  
  
Yeah. Welcome back, Nick.  
  
Nick exited Alvin's office, closing the door behind him. He took a deep breath, and headed over to Lulu's office. He hadn't seen her since that Friday more than a week before when he'd told her bluntly that his situation with Mandy was none of her business.  
  
Reaching Lulu's door, Nick paused a moment, then knocked briskly. Lulu called out, and Nick walked in. Lulu looked up from the case file she had been working on, surprised to see him. Then she realized that Alvin had told her on Friday that Nick thought he'd be in today.  
  
Oh, Nick, she said, attempting to keep her voice neutral. I, I guess Alvin did say you'd be back today. What do you need?  
  
Alvin said you had a some cases for me.  
  
She reached across her desk, and picked up three files. Here they are. I think they're all pretty straight forward. As she held out the files, Nick couldn't help noticing the rock' of an engagement ring that Lulu sported on her left hand. The ring really was huge. Brian had no taste. He'd never give a girl a huge ring like that, it was too much. Ostentatious, that was the word for it. Then Nick noticed the plain wedding band that now was snugly paired with the engagement ring. Realizing what it signified, he had to work hard to suppress a frown. Well, she'd made her choice. She was Mrs. Brian Olsen. That was that, as far as he was concerned.  
  
Nick shook himself free from his wandering thoughts, and took the files from Lulu's outstretched hand. He made a quick survey of the contents.  
  
Lulu added, Is there anything else?  
  
Nick said, looking up with a small smile. No, that was it.  
  
Okay, I'll, uh, I'll see you later then.  
  
Nick nodded. I'll be in the conference room looking these over.  
  
Lulu nodded in return, and shut the door behind Nick. Afterwards, she stood there for a moment, leaning against the door, feeling relieved. Well, she thought that had gone well. She'd kept everything on a completely professional basis. She was still hurt by how Nick had cut off her questions about that dead girl (that `stripper`, she thought to herself) the last time she'd seen him. She'd thought they were friends, and she'd just been expressing her concern as a friend, and he had cut her off cold, told her it was none of her business. She'd been hurt and angry, at first. But in the days since, she had decided that maybe it was actually a good thing. She was married now. She really should keep her distance from an attractive, intriguing guy like Nick. And after all, she had enough of her own problems, she didn't need to take on those of Mr. Nicholas Fallin, as well.  
  
As Nick walked away from Lulu's office, he found himself thinking, Well, that went pretty well. Lulu had acted like nothing had happened between them. He was relieved. He really didn't need any more drama in his life right now. He was up to his ears in drama.  
  
----+----  
  
Thursday, June 6th  
  
As Nick walked into the doors of Caldwell & Associates, he realized he hadn't checked the voice mail on his cell phone since he'd left the courthouse. He pulled out his phone, and checked it as he headed for his office. Manny Frieden had called. Nick hoped this meant that Manny had come up with something incriminating on Caldwell and Lichtman in relation to those Senate votes. He didn't know how much longer he could keep playing nice with Nathan and Mitchell. Sometimes it took every bit of self-control he had not to punch Mitchell right in his smug little face. He really hated the slimy bastard!  
  
Nick unlocked his office, then shut the door behind him. He tried Manny's cell, but only got his voice mail. He left a message for Manny to say that he'd gotten his message, and then started in on the work piled up on his desk. In about an hour his cell phone rang. It was Manny.   
  
Mr. Fallin, this is Manny Frieden. I've got that information you've been wanting, and I think you're gonna be pleased. When would you like to get together?  
  
Uhm, well, I won't be free until about 9:30 tonight. Could we make it then?  
  
Sure. Your dad's house again?  
  
Yeah. That'd be great, Manny. Thanks.  
  
Right. See you tonight.  
  
See you.  
  
Nick called his father at home, but he was out. He left a message on the answering machine saying that he and Manny would be there that evening around 9:30. He said that Manny had good news, and left it at that.  
  
----+----  
  
It was about 9:15PM, and Nick was driving up to his father's house. He was feeling good. He'd just finished having dinner with Arthur Schuller, and it had been a success. Like many Fallin & Associates clients, Schuller had been a little unsure about all the changes at the firm, uncertain whether he should put his trust in the new management team. Nick had done what he could to reassure Mr. Schuller that his account would receive the same excellent service that it always had. Although Nick had almost choked on the words, he had gone on to assure Schuller that his father had made an excellent choice in bringing on Nathan Caldwell to head up the firm, that the senator was a very capable man to have at the helm.  
  
Nick had made up his mind when he'd found out what it was that Mitchell had on his father that he was going to succeed in ousting Caldwell and Lichtman from the firm. And when he did, he wanted there to still be a firm worth reclaiming. That was almost two weeks ago now, and already both Barry Landsberg and Bill Gordon had defected to Kirk & McGee, taking all their associates, and most of their clients, with them. Both men had been partners at Fallin & Associates for many years, and had a large client base, so it was a real loss to the firm. Caldwell had called on Nick to try to help keep some of Landsberg's and Gordon's clients with C&A, but it had been an uphill battle. Nick had never worked on any of their accounts, and he was pretty sure that if his name hadn't been he wouldn't even have gotten in front of some of them. He had convinced a few of these clients to stay with Caldwell & Associates (God, he'd be glad when he never had to say that name again!), but most of those were people who had been with Landsberg or Gordon for a relatively short time. Overall, Nick had struck out far more often than he had succeeded.  
  
But still, he had saved a few of the accounts, and after that, Caldwell seemed to decide that Nick was the one to convince those clients who seemed a bit skittish that their best option was to stay with the firm. Therefore, Nick had been seeing clients at lunch and dinner almost every day. There had been a few times where he actually ended up meeting a client for lunch, a client for before-dinner drinks, a client for dinner, and yet another client for after-dinner drinks. And with all that, he was still managing to fit in his three meetings a week to satisfy his probation requirements, not to mention putting in his hours at the clinic.   
  
But it was catching up with him. As he pulled into the drive in front of his father's house, he realized just how tired he was. He decided no matter how much work he had waiting for him when he got home tonight, he was going straight to bed. He needed to get a decent night's sleep to try to restore his energy. In fact, if he didn't get out of the car right now, he might just doze off. Giving himself a little shake to stave off sleep, Nick stepped out of the car, and made for the front door. He figured that it would be about fifteen minutes before Manny arrived.  
  
Burton greeted Nick pleasantly at the door. Nick had to stifle a yawn before returning his father's hello'.  
  
You look tired, son, Burton said with concern.  
  
I'm all right. I could use some coffee, though.  
  
Okay. Let's go in the kitchen, and I'll make a pot.  
  
Nick followed Burton into the kitchen, and leaned against the counter as his dad started the coffee brewing. He found himself suppressing another yawn. Wake up! he told himself severely. Manny is going to walk in here any minute, and you're going to be falling asleep on your feet.... Now wake up.  
  
[Author's Note: Okay, now everybody that yawned at least once during those last few paragraphs, raise your hand. bg ]  
  
Father and son had just sat down at the dining room table, coffee cups in hand, when Manny arrived. Burton answered the door, and showed Manny into the dining room. He offered him a cup of coffee, and Manny gladly accepted.  
  
Nick couldn't restrain himself from asking the question that was utmost on his mind, but he did so in a loud enough voice that he thought his father would be able to hear him, even in the kitchen. So, what have you got, Manny?  
  
Manny grinned widely. What I've got is records of checks being deposited into the private accounts of both Mitchell Lichtman and Nathan Caldwell in what appears to be a clear-cut case of bribery.  
  
Nick sat forward in his chair. He was wide awake now. From who? he asked, as Burton walked back into the dining room with the extra cup of coffee. Did you hear that, Dad? he asked his father eagerly. Manny says he's got evidence of Caldwell *and* Mitchell taking payoffs.  
  
I heard, son, Burton said in a serious tone of voice. What exactly did you find, Manny?  
  
Well, it's a bit convoluted, you understand. But it appears that in 1999 Mineralli Mining made a payoff to Lichtman in exchange for Caldwell's vote against a bill that was going to increase the financial responsibility that mining companies would bear for the environmental cleanup of old strip mines. Mineralli Mining made out a check to one Bill McWhorters that was then endorsed over to Lichtman, and deposited in his checking account. McWhorters was one of the lower level managers at Mineralli.   
  
Manny paused to let that sink in, then continued. It doesn't look like Caldwell received any kind of payoff in this case. So either he hid it better than Lichtman, or Lichtman was the only one in on the deal.  
  
Burton said, almost involuntarily.  
  
Manny said dramatically, we come to Mr. Philip Martindale. Both Burton and Nick looked up on hearing that name. Philip Martindale was a Pennsylvania business magnate, one of the most powerful men in the state. Manny continued, It seems that back in 98, Martindale was very anxious to get the Senate to pass a tax incentive bill that had been tailor-made for a new business park he was building in Philadelphia. The bill was just about to fail when Caldwell suddenly changed his vote, and it passed. Same thing happened about a year later. Only this time it was a land-use measure that would have affected another Martindale development. The project would have been dead in the water if Martindale hadn't been able to get this bill passed. Once again, Senator Caldwell came through for him at almost the last minute.  
  
Manny took a sip of his coffee, then went on. It took Ron a while to track down the payoffs from Martindale. Turned out the checks had been issued by two of his shell companies. And, as with Mineralli, the checks weren't made out to Caldwell and Lichtman, but ended up in their accounts just the same.  
  
How much money are we talking about? Nick asked.  
  
Let's see. Manny consulted his notes. The payoff to Lichtman from Mineralli Mining was $20,000. Lichtman got $10,000 from the first Martindale deal, $15,000 from the second. As for Caldwell, Martindale paid him $20,000 the first time around, and $25,000 the second. Not bad for two days' work. Manny grinned at his own joke.  
  
Nick glanced at his father. Burton was sitting there looking almost stunned.   
  
And the paper trail is clear? Nick asked. There's enough there for a conviction? For both men?  
  
Ron seemed to think so, Manny affirmed. He's got more experience in this kind of thing than I do, but he seemed to think it was gold'. Here, see for yourself. Manny handed a copy of the documentation to both men. Nick and Burton spent a few minutes studying the papers. It did seem to bear out what Manny had been saying. Nick found himself wondering how Manny's associate Ron Wallis had gotten his hands on some of these bank records. Then decided he probably didn't want to know.  
  
After a couple minutes, Nick said, Well, Manny I think you've given us exactly what we needed. Thank you. My father and I won't forget this. If there's anything we can ever do for you, don't, don't hesitate to ask.  
  
Well, thank you, Mr. Fallin. I appreciate your saying that. But, it's all in a day's work. Know what I mean?  
  
Burton spoke up at that point. Just send the bill to me here at the house, Manny. All right?  
  
Sure thing. You'll have it on Monday.... Anything else I can do for you gentlemen?  
  
Father and son exchanged a glance, and then Burton said, No. No...that will be it, Manny. Thanks again. You did a terrific job...and I mean that...just terrific.  
  
Nick showed Manny out, and returned to find his father staring off into space. he said.  
  
After a moment, Burton roused himself, and said, in a distracted voice.  
  
You okay?  
  
Yeah, son. I'm just.... I never expected it of Caldwell. I guess I wasn't surprised to hear it about that, that little bastard Lichtman, but Caldwell.... When I think that I put my firm in the hands of that man...a man like that. Well, son...it, it's a bitter pill to swallow.  
  
Nick looked down, and nodded. He didn't know what he could say to that. At last he said, You, uh, you want some more coffee?  
  
Burton glanced at his half-empty cup, and said, Sure. Why don't you get us both some, Nick.  
  
Nick fetched the coffee carafe from the kitchen, and both men sat in silence, drinking their coffee, and thinking their own thoughts.  
  
----+----  
  
Friday, June 7th  
  
The next day, Nick informed Caldwell and Lichtman that he needed to discuss something of a confidential nature with them, and invited them both to come by his house that night. The two men were curious, but when Nick refused to say any more on the subject, they agreed to meet at his home at 8:00PM.  
  
Caldwell was the first one to arrive. When Nick showed him into the living room, the senator found Burton waiting for him.  
  
Caldwell said pleasantly. This is a surprise. Nick didn't tell me you were going to be here.  
  
Burton said solemnly, acknowledging his greeting.  
  
Nick, what, what's this all about? Caldwell asked, still with the smile pasted on his face. He couldn't read anything in the younger man's expression.  
  
I'll explain it all when Mitchell gets here. Why don't you have a seat?  
  
Nathan sat down on the couch opposite Burton. He began to play with the stem of his watch. Nick remained standing.  
  
In just a few minutes, Mitchell arrived. He too looked startled to see Burton there. But, he greeted the senior Fallin cordially. Then turned to Nick, and said, Okay, Nick, we're here. What's the big mystery?  
  
Nick smiled at Mitchell. Mitchell was taken aback. He didn't think he'd ever seen Nick Fallin direct a sincere smile in his direction.   
  
It's simple, Mitchell. You and Nathan wormed your way into my father's firm through dishonorable means. I intend to get you out the same way.  
  
Caldwell started to protest, but Nick held up a hand to silence him. Holding up the documentation provided by Frieden in his other hand, he said, I have here records of payoffs made to both of you during your tenure in the Senate, Nathan. To be exact, payoffs made to Mitchell by Mineralli Mining, and to both of you by companies under the control of Philip Martindale.  
  
Both men looked stunned. Caldwell said at last, Mineralli Mining? What's he talking about, Mitchell?  
  
Mitchell ignored the senator, but said to Nick. Let's see this proof of yours, Fallin.  
  
Nick silently handed a copy of the incriminating documents to both men.  
  
Mitchell said stridently, These are bank records. You can't get these without a court order. What you did here is illegal.  
  
Nick raised his right eyebrow, and smiled slightly, tipping his head to the side, then back. He had them, and he knew it.  
  
You have a simple choice. You both resign from the firm, or we leak these records to the authorities.  
  
Mitchell tried to put up a tough front. You do that, and I'll make the senator's deal with your father public. That wouldn't look so good for your father's sterling reputation, now would it, Nick?  
  
Burton leaned forward, as if preparing to respond, but before he could, Nick was speaking again. You know you're bluffing, Mitchell. My father's deal with Caldwell doesn't compare to the bribes you and Caldwell took in the Senate. If it came to light, my father would probably be looking at a slap on the hand. You and the senator would be looking at serious jail time.  
  
Mitchell quickly sized up the situation, and nodded. You're right. I always knew you were a smart guy, Nick, but you've exceeded my expectations. You really have. He shot a glance at the senator, and then turned back to Nick, saying with intensity, Look, you've got me, all right? I admit that, but what you don't realize is the value of having a guy like me around the firm. A guy...a guy who's not afraid to do the dirty work. He grinned cynically at Nick. I think I've proved that, at least.... Whadaya say? Keep me. Dump Caldwell. He was always just a figurehead anyway.  
  
Caldwell objected.  
  
Shut up, Senator. Fallin's got us over a barrel. Afraid you're on your own from now on. I'm not going to do your thinking for you anymore.  
  
Caldwell began again, but he was at a loss for words. He'd never suspected that his chief of staff had been lining his own pockets in the Senate by cutting his own deals. He hadn't yet recovered from that shock, and now Mitchell was abandoning him.  
  
Before Nick could reply to Mitchell's offer, Burton did. Standing up, he said forcefully, Mr. Lichtman, if you know what's good for you, you'll walk out that door right now, and submit your resignation first thing Monday morning. He fixed Mitchell with a hard stare. Mitchell turned to look at Nick, and found himself met by the same icy gaze. Shaking his head, he shot a contemptuous glare at Caldwell, and walked out of the house.  
  
Nick and Burton exchanged a glance after Mitchell's departure. Caldwell was still sitting on the couch, seemingly in a daze. Burton said at last. Caldwell looked up. Nate, Nick needs your resignation on Monday.... You resign...and all this stays between the three of us. But, I need your agreement to that before you leave here tonight. You understand? What's it gonna be?  
  
Caldwell stared first at Burton, then Nick. Finally, he said, I...I have no choice, do I? Mitchell's right. You hold all the cards.... Fine. Fine. I'll submit my letter of resignation to the partners on Monday morning. He stood up, and looked closely at Nick. You'll be free of me then, Nicholas. That's what you've wanted from the beginning, isn't it? Nick folded his arms over his chest, and shifted his posture slightly, but his expression remain unchanged. You couldn't stand working for a guy like me, could you? A guy who'd never practiced law? A political strawman, that's what you thought. Well, you're rid of me now. Congratulations.... Congratulations on a job well done. Your father has certainly taught you well. Nick looked on scornfully as Caldwell made his parting shot.  
  
As the senator started for the door, Burton stood up, and said quietly, I didn't think you had it in you, Nate...to, to take dirty money like that. Why'd you do it?  
  
Caldwell stopped, but didn't turn around. After standing motionless for a few seconds without uttering a word, he began once more to walk slowly toward the door. In another moment, he was gone.  
  
Burton and Nick stood in silence, staring at the closed door. Then Nick turned to his father, and said earnestly, So, will you come back to the firm?  
  
Burton sighed, and put a hand to his chin. Oh. Oh, I don't know, son. I think my day has come and gone.  
  
That's not true, Dad Nick protested with feeling. You're still just as good as you ever were.  
  
Burton shook his head, but didn't say anything. Nick was silent for a moment, then briefly compressed his lips together, before his tongue darted out to wet them. When he spoke, it was with a passionate intensity.  
  
You told me...you've always told me how you spend you life building up the firm.... You've poured your heart and soul into it. Are you ready to throw that all away? Just, just stand by, and-and watch everything you've worked for go down the drain?  
  
  
  
More people are leaving every day, Dad, and now that Caldwell is out of the picture.... Well, Gordon and Landsberg are gone, and I don't think anyone else is really up to the task, do you? Nick paused. Averting his gaze, he added with difficulty, I know...I know before all this started that you, you wanted me to have the firm, Dad, but...but, I think we both know now that I'm not, not really ready for that yet. I'm just...I'm just not ready.  
  
Nick turned away, and Burton looked at his son compassionately. At last, Nick turned back, and looked his father in the eye.  
  
It's got to be you, Dad. You're the only one who can, who can take control, and get-get things back to where they belong, back to what they used to be.  
  
Burton thought for a minute, then shook his head yes' slowly. 'kay.... You've convinced me. I'll call the partners tonight. He ran a hand across his head, and looked at Nick warmly. Thank you, son. You.... Thank you...for what you've done for the firm...and for me.  
  
Nick's eyes grew wet. Thank you, Dad, he got out at last, his voice quiet and broken with emotion. Thank you for what you did, for me. Burton nodded, as his own eyes filled with tears.  
  
---+---  
  
Tuesday, June 11th  
  
Burton Fallin was back in his old office at the newly renamed Fallin and Associates. As Nick had predicted, the other partners had welcomed him back with open arms. There were still a few kinks to work out, a lot of lost ground to make up, but for the most part, Burton was optimistic about the future of the firm. He was actually looking forward to the struggle that lay ahead. He felt a new enthusiasm, a sense of vigor, that he hadn't felt in years. It was almost like the old days.  
  
It was early evening. Most of the staff was already gone, although Burton knew that Nick was still hard at it. Burton had decided it was a good time to start unpacking some of the personal items that he had boxed up only a short three weeks before. He had just gotten started, when there was a knock at the door. He called, "Come in." without looking up from his task. In a moment, Nathan Caldwell walked in.  
  
"Nate," Burton said, a little surprised.  
  
"Burton. I just came by to pick up some of my things."  
  
"Oh, right.... There, uh, over there in those boxes by the door."  
  
Caldwell nodded. He walked over to the boxes, and bent to pick them up. Burton watched him silently.  
  
"Well," Caldwell said, holding the cartons in front of him, "guess this is it. Take care of yourself, Burton."   
  
As the senator turned away, Burton said, Nate, I don't understand. Why, why'd you do it? Why'd you sacrifice your principals, all you believed in...for money?  
  
Caldwell stopped, and turned around. Shaking his head regretfully before meeting Burton's eye, he said, You have no idea what it's like, my friend. You, in this...this world of corporate mergers and divestitures. When you're in politics, temptation is all around. It's not like the world you know, not at all.... Oh it starts out small, a little gift here, a little campaign contribution there. Then before you know it, you're in somebody's back pocket.... You're in their back pocket, and you don't see a way to climb out. So, you go along.... You go along to get along, and before you know it, you're a shell of your former self, just a shell.... To tell you the truth, I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.  
  
Burton nodded sadly. He wondered how many other good men had found themselves in the same situation, bending a little here, a little there, and then realizing one day that they'd become something they'd never envisioned, just another corrupt politician for sale to the highest bidder.   
  
Burton was pulled back from consideration of this painful truth, by the distinctive 'click' of the door handle. He looked up in time to catch sight of Nathan Caldwell's back as he left the office. Burton let out a heart-felt sigh. He gazed out the window for a moment. Then mentally shaking himself out of his gloomy reflections, he turned back to continue his unpacking.   
  
Burton had gotten through one box, and was just starting on another when he paused to examine the framed photo that he held in his hand - that of a little girl in a large, white hat. It was a picture of Sarah Jane Watley at about five years of age. Sarah Jane was the daughter of Jim Watley, a former F&A client and, once, one of Burton's closest friends. When Jim had first brought his business to F&A, he and Burton had hit it off immediately. It hadn't taken long to discover that their wives felt the same way. Soon the two families were spending much of their free time together. Like Nicholas, Sarah Jane was an only child, and being only a year older than Nick, the two children had formed a close bond.   
  
This picture of Sarah Jane had been taken at a weekend BBQ at Burton and Anne's house. Sarah had arrived wearing this adorable, large hat. The grown-ups had been so taken by the sight of the little girl in the over-sized bonnet that Nick soon began to feel left out (he would have been about four then, Burton thought). Nicholas had started saying that he wanted a hat too. The adults all had a good chuckle over this, but a few minutes later, Burton had walked into the house, and returned with one of his fedoras. He had placed it on Nick's head, and the adults had all laughed as the hat immediately fell down over the little boy's face. Nick pushed it back up, and favored Sarah Jane and the grown-ups with a large grin. He and Sarah had proudly paraded around the yard in their big hats for the next half hour. Jim had snapped some pictures of the children, and on one of his later visits to the office had presented Burton with a framed 5x7 of each child. Burton had placed them on his desk where they had remained for years. But then about seventeen years ago, when the firm had moved into its current location, the picture of Nick had gotten lost in the move. Burton had returned Sarah Jane's picture to its original spot, figuring that the one of Nick would show up eventually, but it never had. So the little girl's portrait had remained, by itself, on his desk.   
  
As with many things, after a while, the picture had been there so long that Burton ceased to it. It had only been when he was packing up his personal items from the office that he had paused to consider how incongruous it was to have had just Sarah Jane's picture on his desk all these years. After a moment, he turned around, and placed the photo in his open briefcase to take home with him. He hadn't seen Jim or Patsy since they had moved to Arizona five or six years ago. He hadn't seen Sarah since she was in college, but he knew she was married with two children of her own now. He wondered idly if Nick was ever going to get married, ever going to give him a grandson or granddaughter to take Sarah Jane's place on his desk. Hmmm.  
  
Burton was interrupted in his musings by a sharp knock at the door. As he looked up, Nicholas came striding into the room. Dad, I need a couple signatures on these contracts for O'Rielly Foods.  
  
Burton smiled at his son, and shook his head ruefully. It was just like the old days, all right, the very recent old days'.  
  
The End  



End file.
